Feyi is a 26-year-old writer who lives in Lagos. After being friends with benefits (FWB) with Dipo for six months, she finds herself falling in love with him. She ends up getting heartbroken but still has to carry on adulting because bills don’t care about your feelings. Here is the story of a 26-year old writer who fell for her FWB:
Day 1
9 AM
Today’s a good day. I don’t have to go to work, and that’s amazing because the traffic leaving my house is longggg af! I was already going to be late anyway, so this is really a game-changer. My phone is ringing but I’m just going to stare at it. I don’t understand why this man won’t leave me alone. He’s been on my case but I’m not sure I’m interested. Normally, I would pick up the phone and entertain him. But half the time, he just talks about his work and the latest VIP he has flown. If you couldn’t tell, he’s a pilot.
1 PM
My friend calls to talk about the latest trending topic from our group chat. We were talking about the propriety or lack of, of talking to more than one person at the same time. I was clear that I think it’s wrong to talk to multiple people at the same time.
I was eating breakfast when she called. I don’t know if it can pass for breakfast when it’s at 1 PM. Well, my mum has a saying that “the tummy doesn’t have a closing or opening time.” I should see Dipo tomorrow. We’ve been hooking up for the past 6 months, but I’ve started to come to terms with the fact that I might be in love with him.
4 PM
My friends can be quite the restless bunch. They are contemplating going out for bottomless mimosas, and I’m game, to be honest. There’s a new app a friend is recommending. Someone said it enables you to talk to various men at the same time. I’m puzzled because I thought the idea of texting someone is to focus on them and not text other people. Well, what do I know!? I believe in love!
6 PM
Bottomless mimosas out. Netflix in. We’ve decided to stay at home and watch a movie. Dipo is supposed to come over tonight. I’m going to talk to him. I like him but we can’t continue this way. I pick up the phone to call him. The bast*rd airs me. He responds that he’s with the boys. This is one reason why I don’t see the need for us to even have sex. I mean why am I not even getting my due respect? I focus on my movie and drink until I pass out!
Day 2
12 PM
I’m sleeping in because it’s Saturday. I promised Onome to help her move in. She’s moving to a new house that her ‘sugar daddy’ paid for. She is proof of the lengths that Lagos men will go to when incentivized. I think I should get myself one of them since the guys I’m dealing with only offer to stress me and can’t even pay for things as small as hair from Kuku’s Hair.
I hate that I have to leave my bed. *sigh* I hate it here!
I call a cab but the driver declines because I’m paying cash. I’m checking my Instagram and I see Dipo in the Maldives. I’m going to have to double-check because I’m pretty sure this was the man I made plans to see and hasn’t shown up yet.
4 PM
I arrive at Onome’s. She has hired removers, so we’re just going while we wait. She’s making me help her choose a car colour. Life really has a way of reminding me of things that I want and can’t get immediately. *silent tears* I remember I have three articles to turn in by Monday and I haven’t even started working on them. My creative life is suffering.
I scroll through my phone looking for who to call after all. I want to party and get Dipo out of my mind. My mind quickly goes back to how sweet and lovely he was when I first met him. We spoke about music and laughed at an old man’s joke for hours. I regret going about it the wrong way. Onome calls my attention to the fact that the guys are done and she’s good to go. I bid her bye and get in my taxi. The ride home seemed longer than usual. I see a billboard that makes me wish I were being fondled at that exact time.
8 PM
I’m getting dressed to go to the club, and I’m seeing myself in the mirror. I can confirm that I’m fucking sexy. *giggles* I’ve called a taxi. On our way, the taxi gets a flat tire. I try to distract myself by writing while he fixes the tire. I’ve got some ideas for my pending article. I’m struggling to find my words. A police car pulls over and begins to ask questions. One of them starts flirting with me. It’s hilarious to watch. We talk for a bit while the driver gets the car ready for us to leave.
I got to the club and started scanning for someone to grind on. I need all the physical touch I can get. A guy walks up to me. I recognise him as someone I had casual sex with last year. I’m excited to see him. I’m fantasizing about climbing him and doing things to him. We dance and grind all night. I’m definitely following him home!
Day 3
12 PM
I wake up in an oddly familiar house, and I immediately remember I went home with Funbi. Yes, drunk sex is the best! Funbi is on a call. I tiptoe around the house to get my things but he won’t let me leave. We have sex for a second time. It reminds me of what I had been missing. But I have to remind myself that this is how heartbreaks start. I quickly excuse myself.
I get home and I see a familiar car in the driveway. It’s Dipo! I walk in on my friends to meet him in the living room. I go straight into my room. He follows me then suddenly stops me. Things start getting heated up. We end up having sex. It feels like long lost lovers making up. Although, I know I’m the only one in love here. We both lay quietly in bed until I sleep off.
3 PM
I wake up to my phone ringing. It’s Onome. She finally finished unpacking and she is excited. Her mom is asking how she got the house. We try to find story ideas to tell her mom. We talked for a bit, then I hung up after 5 mins. She loves me, I know. But she has to stop stressing me. Dipo is asleep by my side. He’s so beautiful and calm.
6 PM
Dipo wakes up and gets on the phone. He’s yelling at someone. I guess it’s about work. He gets off the phone and tries to draw me close. I remind him that we have to talk. I ask him how he feels about me. He’s finding it hard to speak. This is funny because I’m here wondering how I got into this entanglement. I tell him we cannot continue doing this because feelings are getting involved. He gets up to leave and I’m left standing. I can’t remember how long I stood there.
Day 4
11 AM
I wake up with a splitting headache. On Monday, I wanted to stay in bed but my bills won’t pay themselves. Getting out of bed today is harder than usual. I can feel my heart- it’s heavy. I suddenly burst into tears. I cry until I can’t feel my face anymore. I have to muster the energy to stand up or I wouldn’t make it to work. I’m so upset that the world doesn’t stop when you are hurting.
1 PM
It’s a hard day at work. My editor is consistently asking for my deliverables, but I try to buy time. My colleagues are singing birthday songs to someone on the other side. I know the celebrant but I’m not exactly in a celebratory mood. I’ll say ‘hi’ on my way out or I’ll wish her a happy birthday some other time. While on the other side, I see Mrs Kudu fighting with her laptop, which made me feel somewhat satisfied. If she spent more time minding her business, she won’t be having issues with her laptop. But what do I know!?
4 PM
It’s time to go home. My editor won’t believe her eyes when she opens my work. In my defence, I didn’t come to work today- my alter ego did. The ride home seems long. My favourite song by The Weeknd comes on and I get a text from Funbi. He wants to talk. I’m open to talking. I ask that he comes to mine with food and drinks.
8 PM
My other friend, Sade is at my place explaining how she hasn’t had an orgasm with her new boyfriend. They have been dating for weeks. I suggest dildos, vibrators and all of those nasty things. I don’t think anyone has to go through this, but what do I know. I try to concentrate on the TV show but I can’t. I will probably be in my head till I sleep off.
Day 5
10 AM
I’m at work early. I start to focus on work. I have to correct the last article I sent to my editor. There are whispers in the office but I can’t seem to understand why. I’m guessing it’s because my boss got married to the fourth woman over the weekend. She literally waltzed in today and started barking out orders. The last time I checked, she wasn’t holding any position in the office neither was she trained in the publication or writing business. Anyways, it’s none of my business. I´m going to face my job description and go home to cry in my bed later.
4 PM
I get a call from Funbi. He is going to pick me up from work so we could talk. I’m still here wondering what the conversation is about. He arrives about an hour later. We stop for ice cream on the way. He tries to create some small talk and I indulge him. He continues to talk about work until he bluntly asks me to be his girlfriend. I act like I don’t hear him because I’m convinced he isn’t referring to me. He repeats it. I pause to ask why he would date me.
At this time, we’re pulling up to my house. I wait in the car for a little while thinking he would say anything to back up his question but he’s mute and I get out of the car and walk away. Nothing happens afterwards because he didn’t come in. Dipo hasn’t answered my question. I want one person and I’m going to find out if the person wants me back.
8 PM
I’m getting ready for bed and thinking of what to text Dipo. He needs to give me an answer. Funbi asking me to be his girlfriend feels like a “wrong guy, right question” type of thing. I really wish Funbi didn’t know I was only trying to settle with him in spite of Dipo. I didn’t want that. I pick up my phone to write to Dipo. I tell him he isn’t good for me and I’m cutting him off. I really hope he responds, there just might be hope.
12 AM
I fall asleep on the couch. For some weird reason, I jolt. I immediately pick up my phone. Dipo hasn’t responded but I desperately wish he had. I close my eyes and am ready to sleep. His message suddenly pops in and he’s saying all he wants is to be casual. I let out a loud painful laugh. I start to daydream about what would have been if he had fought to have. But who am I kidding!?
This article is based on real-life events. Names used are mere pseudonyms to protect the identities of the individuals mentioned in the article.
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