Smashing Katie | Tales From The Breakup Battlefield

There's this word that most women toss around and most men avoid like the bubonic plague. Men hear it and they run for the hills. No, it's not "commitment". The word I'm referring to is "dating". As in, "we're not dating, we're just hanging out like friends do." What's with this "don't label our relationship because I don't want one" bulls**t yet it's a-ok to be intimate and stay the night once in a while? I suppose that's what really good friends do. Not best friends, mind you. But "special" friends. I don't want to be the f**king, special friend that his circle of friends smirk behind my back about.

No, I'm not just talking about the vegetarian smoking, prozac popping hypocrite or the fanatical triathlon training, head shaving, disappearing mute of yesteryear. Recently, two friends of mine requested that we hang out with all the benefits of an occasional tryst now and then right after I told them I cut off Mr. Loser's benefits. I understand we all have that need for sexual release at times. From "I'll help you get over him" to "You don't need that jerk when you can have me (another jerk?) for the night", I'm not pathetic enough to jump at the chance to have sex with anyone as a way to get over the last person I slept with. Yet, it must be written all over my sad and sorry face in order for me to be propositioned.

We've all been there at some point and it doesn't feel joyously wonderful when your friend decides to pursue a romantic relationship with someone else and you realize you were just his temporary bookmark that's currently better than a plastic blow up doll. Even with communication and making the relationship clear to both parties, someone's bound to get hurt. I'm not hardwired to conduct a FWB relationship without getting involved emotionally. I don't know how people can do it with a sigh and a shrug of the shoulders when things end and you are back to being friends until the next serious relationship lull occurs. Maybe that makes me a prude or just prone to lots of heartache and headaches.

I wish I had the nerve to tie them up and slap some sense into them. Damn all the insecure, drama-creating, emotionally and mentally unstable men who can't figure out what they want but still wander around with their dicks sagging between their legs looking for "the one" that will save them. I'm not carrying anymore of their baggage in an attempt to be the nice, yet foolish girl who gives so much in the hopes that they wake up to reality. I'm getting too old for this...

F**K!
Madison,