I've stated before that Hershey had every intention of our casual arrangement remaining casual. He had no interest in dating, not just me, but anyone ever. Really it wasn't until he was told that he probably had an STI that our conversation of exclusivity began and it was hard to figure out how we were going to go about it.
When Hershey first brought up his STI, I brought up the thought of being sexually exclusive and he wasn't really about it. He basically said that he wasn't going to try and find another girl sober but if he happened to be out and drunk and a girl caught his eye, he wasn't going to stop himself either. Which makes sense, he didn't want the monogamous responsibility that comes with a relationship. At the time, I said it was fine but as time went on... The thought started to rub me the wrong way because it was the only girl he had slept with between sleeping with me that he got an STI from. If the only time he intended on sleeping with other girls was when he was shit-faced, he wasn't going to take the time to discuss the status of their genitalia, the boy didn't even take the time to put on a condom! Yes, he had respected my rules the first time and I had been saved from his gonorrhea or chlamydia but what about next time? What if it wasn't brushed away with antibiotics next time?
So, I was basically debating just ending things right then and there but I was also working at the time so I didn't exactly have the time to eloquently do so... so I held off. By the time my shift was over, I figured that he had been so traumatized by this experience maybe he would wisen up for the next time... that maybe next time he would use a condom or that he would first think with the brain in his head and then with the one in his dick.
A few days later, I got a text from him saying that maybe sleeping around just wasn't worth it. I delved a little further asking what he meant. If he meant that he wasn't going to do it as often, if he meant that he wanted to end what we were doing, or if he was starting to warm up to the thought of being sexually exclusive. To my surprise and ultimately, my relief, it was the latter. We were officially monogamous sexual partners that were not dating. And I laid down some new rules:
- Pretty obvious because of the decision we came to, don't fuck other girls. Or men. No loop holes here.
- Once a month, a booty call would be accepted.
- This booty call would have to exist within semi-reasonable hours as I am a grandma and go to sleep early most nights.
- He would have to come to me because I wasn't paying to bus to him nor was I spending time on said bus for sloppy drunk sex.
- If he was clean, he had the option of not using a condom. But obviously withdrawal tactics would need to be enforced because I might be on the pill but I'm not risking babies.
- I expect to have sex more than once a month.
With the rules signed off and agreed to, I was ready to take on life with this weight off my chest... Then his diagnosis came in. Now if you've read my previous post, Hershey, you know that he was diagnosed with HSV-2. Which meant there was about a 50% chance I had it. Which is basically how I'm just living now. I don't have any sores but have experienced other symptoms and found relief from antivirals, I'm quite positive that I did contract HSV-2 from Hershey that night. However, because of my lack of sores I could have to wait up to 12 weeks for enough antibodies to be in my blood stream for a blood test to properly diagnose me. Which meant it was a waiting game... So I had a decision to make. To go with my gut, accept a possible positive diagnosis (or put myself at risk of one if I was in fact negative) and continue to see Hershey in this weird exclusive casual relationship or end it and wait the 12 weeks for what I already felt I knew.
I ultimately decided to say fuck it.
And continued to fuck him.