I Fell In Love with My Fuck Buddy-Part DUECES!

So here I am, lying next to this gorgeous, smart, gorgeous, exotic looking, sweet talking, gorgeous man. I've been SURE for at least a week that I'm madly in love with him even though I know I shouldn't be. Even though he's stated that this is all he wants and all we'll ever be, even though I loved another man just two weeks ago....

As I look lovingly into his eyes, pretty positive that he felt the same way. I knew I had to say something. We couldn't go on like this. Pretending to not feel the way we feel (IN LOVE). I didn't want to jinx anything this time so I only told five or six or ten of my closest girlfriends. Ok, 12. And my mother..Anyway, they all thought the same thing. He was definitely in love with me, too.
But every time I tried to say something words would escape me or he'd have this look on his face like he was constipated or trying to figure out if the color of my thong was black or navy blue-that's really a crap shoot for guys, they're all color blind. You can't tell a guy you love him when he looks constipated. Not sexy.

I decided I would start seeing him more; I would make myself more available. If three-seven nights a week wasn't enough, surely....well, whatever more than seven nights a week was, that's what I would be! Morning, noon and night baby, all yours! I texted him after I left that night and said we should spend a night in cooking together, watching movies, making LOVE...the thought gave me tingles already! He said he was in, obvi.!

I hadn't heard from him the rest of the week. I figured he was obviously playing hard-to-get and why would he be as eager as I was? He didn't know I was in love with him, yet. So Saturday night rolls around, I call. No answer. No text. Nothing. Sad, depressed and thirsty, my girlfriend Susan and I went to a bar downtown to get a drink. And by 'a drink' I mean get wasted, then get high on our way to Denny's at 2am.

Even though I was feeling depressed I knew I at least looked hott so off we went into the night! Two drinks in and I spotted him. Not my fuck buddy. Someone better. Someone hotter. Someone more exotic looking than ever! Ok, he was a hipster just like all the other guys in the bar but he made his Flannel look like Channel diamonds and his scruffy face and long, tangled hair looked like the hipster version of James fucking Dean.

Maybe it was the drinks. Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe I was in heat. Whatever it was, we locked eyes and I couldn't remember whats-his-fuck for the life of me. We got lost in each other and once I heard his accent it was like I was making out with Javier Bardem's younger, hotter, brother. YUM!
Needless to say, my fuck buddy can go fuck himself. I'm NOT in love with him....anymore. It's so weird how good sex can cloud a woman's thinking. Whoopsie!