Wait, werewolves exist, right?...

I just returned from a late Thanksgiving evening showing of Twilight: Breaking Dawn. Go ahead, scoff. Poke fun. Judge me. I care not. We all have our weaknesses, one of mine just happens to be bad acting and sparkly vampires. I had options as to how I was going to spend my night... eating and drinking way too much with some friends; hitting up some Black Friday midnight door-buster sales; watching the guys I work with play Skyrim for 10 hours.

While these choices varied considerably in their appeal, all I really wanted after 8 hours of slinging Mimosas and turkey to the decidedly UN-thankful masses, was to be by myself. I needed mindless entertainment that was pleasing to my senses. Enter: Twilight.

Now, I recognize that I am old enough to have mothered the characters in these movies (if I had been a really slutty 14-year old), and so I am on neither 'Team Edward' nor 'Team Jacob'. Instead, I took it upon myself after the first movie, to form 'Team Charlie' (who is otherwise known as 'Bella's Dad' for those of you who aren't hip to the Twilight groove). Not only is he handsome in a rugged, small-town way, but he has a good job, a nice, modest house and he's the strong, shy, silent type.

Perhaps it's because I'm all hopped up on "liquefied butter product" and Reeses Pieces, but since we're already on the train to the land of make-believe, let's keep riding, shall we? If I married Charlie and became Bella's stepmother, I would be hard-pressed not to grab that girl and shake her repeatedly. "What is the matter with you?!" I would shout. "Why don't you have any self-esteem, or a personality?!" I would say. "Why don't you have any goals aside from becoming a vampire so you can spend eternity with your dumb boyfriend?" I simply refuse to believe my beloved Charlie could have raised such a spineless dolt.

On the other hand, I've been 18 and I've been in that kind of love and no amount of shaking or screaming would've convinced me I wasn't going to be with that person forever. So, I suppose I get it... I definitely understand the vampire thing. It occurred to me tonight while watching, that Edward is the age old quandary of 'youth and vigor' vs. 'age and experience', solved. He is youthful and vigorous on the outside, yet he has the experience and wisdom of having "lived" hundreds of years. It would be like hooking up with the hottie you dated in college, minus the fart jokes, video games and binge drinking. But, I digress... Obviously, vampires and fictitious, small-town cops aren't a viable dating option, so back into reality I leap to try to figure out what the hell I am doing.....

What could possibly go wrong...?

A friend with benefits... what a seemingly simple, yet deviously complex animal. It always starts off so idealistically--I have an itch and I'd like someone to scratch it. I've always had certain rules in place with regard to these situations, to ensure things stay the way they are supposed to be: casual, drama-free and emotionless. For example, and these are just guidelines of course, choose someone you like, but with whom you can't really picture being in an actual relationship with. Also, put some walls up--don't discuss your feelings or do anything that makes you feel vulnerable. What I seem to have overlooked however, is:

a.) For every rule, there is an exception.

b.) Rules-as a rule-were made to be broken.

Because of this, it's become clear to me that all fwb situations have an expiration date. It can vary, depending on exactly how much time is being spent horizontally, but the reality is if you like someone enough to continue banging them for an extended period, chances are there is a connection there, or at the very least, a mutual attraction and trust. This is where it gets tricky... when you spend enough time entwined with someone else's body, you're going to begin feeling something (unless you are a sociopath or just completely jaded and dead inside). It's at this point, the expiration date begins looming. Once feelings are put on the table, I think you have two choices. You can either decide to tear down your remaining walls and see where things go, or you can call off the entire operation. I don't like these options, logical or not.

My most recent experience with this began innocently enough. We both had our walls firmly in place, in fact, we didn't even kiss for the first 2 months. When I asked him what his deal was (since I really enjoy kissing) he said it was a really personal thing for him. 'Okay Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman', I thought, but I couldn't begrudge his point since we were both pretty set on staying detached. However, as time went on (can you guess where this is going?), we eventually did kiss, which led to holding each other afterwards, which led to more kissing, which led to out and out spooning and before I knew it, I found myself seeing this boy as more than just the occasional itch-scratcher. Intimacy is such a slippery slope.