To the boy I'm casually sleeping with (but have increasingly-growing feelings for)'s mother:
Listen, I don't know much at the tender age of 18, but if I were in your position, I'd hate me; the idea of me, the notion that I exist, the blue Scion I park near your house, the flip flops I sometimes leave downstairs. To you, I'm a two-cent, post-high school whore defiling your son, destroying any last shred of integrity/innocence he had left (you know he's a pothead, right? He wasn't the best of news before he met me. I mean, have you seen his room and the impressive array of ganja-themed paraphernalia? The Dr. Pepper bong? Like...come on). To you, I'm toying with his heart; building this thing up til I jet off to college, leaving him in the dust with a broken heart and more reasons to blaze alone in his room.
Here's the thing though--I'm actually an intelligent, altogether un-whore-y young woman who has made a mature decision to express her sexuality in a healthy and safe (we're very safe) way. With your son. It's hard to explain how our thing works (he told me that he told you that we're "a thing" when trying to explain what you caught us doing in his bed that one time...I'll stick to his vernacular), because I'm not sure how well 40-somethings understand the whole friends-with-benefits ordeal.
I know that my mother would not begin to comprehend why I'm doing such a thing. She's been with my dad since she was 16, total Dirty Dancing kind of story. They wouldn't know why I'm so apprehensive to go out for dinner with your son, or why I'm afraid to bring him to my house. I'm the oldest daughter, and they're psycho-protective. That means absolutely no drugs, no boy-toys, and certainly no drug-dealing boy-toys. Sorry we're always at your place. It must be really awkward when you hear us shutting the basement door.
But see, you and your husband are cool parents and allow your son to have the opposite sex over without giving him/his guest the third degree, bare single-lightbulb-ed room and all. That's more like my house, and it sucks, and probably led to my sleeping with your son so quickly. You know, out of repression and curiosity and more repression and the looming concept of going to college a virgin. If you must know, I used to have a slight virgin-inferiority complex from a) watching American Pie too many times before I was R-rated-ready, b) having two best girl friends in serious relationships sharing with me all of their romantic sexcapades 24/7, and c) being frustratingly-close to the deed with a *tasteful* number of other guys, but never actually getting there. Your son and I got there, fast. Because it felt right.
The reality is, I'm going to leave town in a few weeks and be approximately 800 miles (and one time zone) away. I'm going to end things with your son, and he knows this. Am I a complete bitch for leading him on with slightly-relationship-y behavior throughout this whole "thing"?
Yes, yes I am.
Like, we sometimes hold hands now, and it isn’t even repulsive. I don’t stop him anymore from kissing me goodnight. We're running backwards through the bases on the baseball diamond of sexual activity. You could say I'm in denial a little, but I'd say I'm just going with the flow. But that's what a person in denial would say.
Still, even if I do become slightly more emotionally invested in the weeks leading up to my departure, I plan to move on with utmost speed once I'm gone., on account of the heavy international male student population of the school I'm going to (and well, your son is as white as they come...which is great, because lots of people prefer Wonderbread to whole grain or pumpernickel, so yeah!). He will find someone who isn’t as seemingly-shady/obviously snarky as me. I don't want to damage anyone, just want to make my intentions clear.
I want you to know that I've adored spending time with him, and that he's the sweetest guy I've met thus far in life. So kudos to you, because you've raised him well (don't beat yourself up over the weed thing. It'll pass in a few years when he realizes that munchies mean calories and calories sometimes make you gain weight after your ridiculous teenage metabolism has slowed down a bit).
Thank you for not ever killing me or making me feel like a terrible person,
Amanda