And then there’s the guy that I fuck when I’m in between finding anyone exciting to sleep with. There’s no one here to sweep me off my feet, my heart doesn’t go pitter patter, there isn’t some insatiable desire flinging my legs open in the hopes of fucking this one guy. I’m just not in love, and I’m not really feeling anyone, so I hit up the filler fuck. You know the one – old reliable, really. He’s ready to pay attention to you on a mature yet emotionally distant level, down to have mediocre sex that does nothing other than bide time while looking for someone scintillating to sex up. He’s not particularly interested in dating, but, instead, is down to go to the movies and make out and cuddle and then not call for a week or two. His feelings won’t get hurt when you get too busy to hang out because you’ve finally found someone that you think you could possibly date for the next two or three months, but, as soon as that’s over and you’re looking for a post-rebound, jaded on love, cynical fuck that offers noncommital companionship and low maintenance attention fulfillment – well, he’s your guy. Things will never get serious with him, there are never any jealousy issues, no mind games, no “getting to know each other better” on dates at fancy restaurants, no meeting the parents, no drama, no fights, nothing other than cursory friendship and occasional fucking. And maybe I love him more than any of the other boys, because after a couple years of doing this maybe we have gotten to know each other fairly well, or, maybe this comfortable distance is helping enable the numbness that I need in order to function on a daily basis.