Love

My go-to guy

In 2011, Best Boy and I went from seeing each other twice a week to once a week. (I wasn't exactly sure why that was, but I didn't have a problem with it either.) In February, I saw him shortly before I headed off to the beach with Philly Matt and my friends.

Th events that transpired at the beach marked the end of my friendship with Philly Matt. I texted Best Boy on my ride home from Rehoboth, saying:

Any chance you’re free tonight? Long weekend. Would love one of your hugs.

Best Boy:  Heading downtown for a meeting. Will come over after. Hope you're ok.

When Best Boy arrived at my place, he was comforting. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened over the weekend. I just wanted him to hold me close, and he did that without me asking him.

Best Boy and I had sex that evening, and again in the morning. It wasn’t mind-blowing, but I was content with our sexual routine.

As we were laying in bed talking, I commented:

I just want my old life back. I’m tired of feeling so sick all the time and looking like this. What kind of cruel joke is it to get a type of cancer that causes you to gain weight?

Best Boy: You don't look like you’ve gained weight.

Me [staring at him with wide eyes]: I’ve gained 23 pounds!

Best Boy lifted up the covers and really looked at my body.

Best Boy: Where?!? I don’t see it.

I kissed him and shook my head with a smile on my face.

Me: Thighs, belly, ass. All over. [I laugh.] You flatter me, but I’ll take it!

Later, as we were both working on my couch, Best Boy asked me what had happened at the beach. I gave him a brief summary of events, and we got into an interesting discussion about the Friends’ Code.

Is it acceptable to sleep with your ex's friends or your friends' exes? Does it matter how close you are to the friend or were to the ex?

Best Boy and I fell into a similar camp in that it depended on whether we loved the ex or not. He recalled how I had tried to set him up with my friend, D, back in September.

Me: Yeah, I so tried to make that one happen for you! But, that was then. I would not be cool with that now.

Best Boy: You wouldn’t?

Me: No. I care about you too much now to be okay with that.

We talked about how the situation applied to our relationship. To this day, I don’t know if Mr. Exec is truly okay with how close Best Boy and I have gotten. But, the fact that Mr. Exec and I never loved each other or were that serious mattered – to all three of us.

When Best Boy headed off to work, I gave him a long hug and kiss goodbye.

Me: Thank you. For everything.

Best Boy was important to me, but I still didn’t feel like I knew if our relationship was going anywhere. And, if so, where?

I decided not to spend too much time overanalyzing what Best Boy and I were and where we were going. I knew that time would tell.

As a postscript:

For those of you who are interested in what I looked like bald and heavy from steroids, click here to see my interview on Let’s Talk Live.
 

A Cancer-versary Thank You

A year ago today, I was sitting in my stylist’s chair at my hair salon, when my cell phone vibrated in my lap. I saw that it was Sibley Hospital and excused myself to answer the call. As I remember how I felt when I heard the news from my doctor that I had cancer, I have tears in my eyes and goose bumps on my arms.

I think of the moments in my life that helped shape me into the person I am today, and being diagnosed with cancer at 37 years of age is definitely high on that list. I wouldn’t wish the past year on my worst enemy, but in the midst of the lows of treatment, I’m grateful for all my blessings.

I’m thankful for:

1. Knowing My Body. I've been vigilant about conducting self exams and contacting my breast surgeon, whenever I found a lump;

2. Early Detection. I had an aggressive strain of cancer that was caught early during my annual mammogram. Health technology isn’t perfect, but getting mammograms every year is the best thing that women can do for their breast health;

3. A Great Medical Team. At Sibley Hospital, I've worked with doctors who are experts in the field because they deal with breasts exclusively;

4. Health Insurance. Every step of this process is expensive, and a recent study discussed how many people with cancer are forced to declare bankruptcy. I appreciate that in the midst of such a difficult year, I didn’t have to worry about medical coverage;

5. My Other Health Problems. Treatment and the side effects were horrid, but I'm glad that I never became clinically depressed or questioned whether I was going to make it. I know far too many women who were not that lucky – either because they were diagnosed after the cancer had spread or they hadn’t ever emotionally processed major health issues before. I was as prepared as I could have been for surgery and treatment, and am fortunate enough not to be among the 30% of women who suffer from anxiety or depression after beating cancer;

6. This Blog. I had a forum through which I could express myself. With every post that I wrote, I was able to process my emotions and let go;

7. The Cause. Early on, I vowed to make this about more than just me. In the past year, I’ve volunteered, advocated and raised money for breast cancer awareness, prevention and research. Through helping others, I found a sense of peace as to why I was diagnosed with breast cancer. And, on the advocacy front, I know I'm just getting started;

8. The Wisdom to Know the Difference. There were loved ones who had a difficult time processing my cancer. They either couldn't help me out at all during treatment or had to make it all about them. There were acquaintances that clearly were uncomfortable with the fact that I didn't wear a wig. There were a few people who thought that I used my diagnosis to get attention. There were those who assumed treatment was easy because it was caught at Stage 1 or they would see me in public with a smile on my face. There were those who told me that I must be feeling fine when they saw that my hair was growing back.

I could go on and on, but everyone else’s thoughts and feelings were just that – everyone else’s! I couldn't take other people's comments or actions personally, and I knew better than to try to own their feelings about my illness;

9. Mr. Exec for letting me go without a fight;

10. Philly Matt for convincing me to continue with my treatment plan, even though the doctor had changed my protocol at the eleventh hour;

11. Mr. Agency for reminding me that I was sexy no matter how I felt or looked;

12. Best Boy for being there. When the going got rough, he stayed and helped;

13. My Cancer Crew. (I can't type this part without sobbing.) AB, AF, LF, TL, NP, LV – I honestly don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve friends as giving and wonderful as you. I can’t imagine those people who have to go through treatment alone, and because of you all, I never had to. Thank you will never, ever seem sufficient. I love you all with all my heart;

14. My Friends. Every note, every virtual comment, every care package and every visit meant so much to me. The compassion, support and love you’ve shown me helped get me through the many days in which treatment got the best of me. There’s a reason why friends are the family we choose for ourselves, and I’m very blessed to have such an amazing support system; and

15. YOU! Yes, YOU! The overwhelming kindness of my readers and online friends was humbling, motivating and so very appreciated. I hope that there will be a day in the future when I can give you a hug in person. Your emails, comments, gifts and tweets always brightened my day and my spirits.

In one year, I’ve grown more than I have in the past decade. Thank you for joining me for this portion of my journey and for being so supportive. I hope you’ll continue to come along for the ride. xoxo
 

The lumps that aren’t so lovely

I know boobs. I love tits. And, I'm all over breast health. In fact, since I was diagnosed with breast cancer last June, it seems that I’m all about the tatas.

With the disclaimer that I’m not a doctor nor do I play one on TV, here are some responses to questions that I’ve received about the boobies:

Question: I found a lump, and I’m freaking out. What do I do?

Answer: The first time you find a lump is definitely scary. Breathe, do something that helps you relax, and try to remind yourself that you don’t have enough information yet to truly lose it. Breast tissue changes throughout the month because of hormones, and those changes are completely normal.

Wait until after your next period is finished, and do another self-exam. If the lump is still there, then it’s worth making an appointment with your gynecologist or a breast surgeon. (If you're a guy, I would also wait about a month and then make an appointment with your internist.)

Question: You had breast cancer, City Girl! Since I found a lump, I’m worried that I have it, too.

Answer: My health history and my family health history put me at a much greater risk for breast cancer. Please remember, though, that my story is far from the average young woman’s story. The average age for a breast cancer diagnosis in the United States is 61 years.

Over your lifetime, you have a one in eight chance of being diagnosed with breast cancer. But, in your 30s, only one in 233 women receives a positive diagnosis. The odds are slim that a lump that you find in your 20s, 30s, or 40s is cancerous.

I don’t write and talk about breast cancer as a scare tactic, but rather to make young men and women more aware and empowered. It’s important to:

1. Know your body, including your boobs;
2. Work with knowledgeable health care professionals and obtain online information from reliable medical sources;
3. Take control of your health from an early age (and not just so you can look great in a swim suit);
4. Reach out to others who have health problems with compassion; and
5. Talk about health, sex and other medical issues without fear or embarrassment.

Question: I’m worried because I have a lump in my breast that’s painful.

Answer: Pain is never fun or easy to tolerate. However, most painful lumps are benign (non-cancerous). If the lump doesn’t decrease in size and remains consistently painful, you can always schedule a minor surgery to get it removed.

Painful lumps are also common for women with fibrocystic breasts. More than 50% of women deal with this at some point in their lives, and these lumps are completely benign.

Question: I waited until after my next period, and the lump is still there. Should I call the gynecologist?

Answer: That depends. If you’ve never worked with a breast surgeon or had a mammogram before, then yes. I would call your gynecologist to make an appointment for a Clinical Breast Exam. If the gynecologist feels the lump, too, he or she may suggest that you return in six months for a follow-up. Depending on your insurance coverage, I’d ask: 1) for the name and number of a breast surgeon; 2) for the name and number of a breast radiologist; and 3) if you can return in three months.

A breast surgeon’s Clinical Breast Exam will last two or three times longer than the exam that your gynecologist performs. Why is that? The breast surgeon deals with just breasts, while the gynecologist is trained more in issues involving your gynecological and reproductive health. There are general surgeons who perform breast exams and surgeries, but I prefer going to a surgeon who deals with the breast exclusively.

If the gynecologist recommends that you receive a breast ultrasound or mammogram, then make sure that the facility you go to uses digital mammography and has at least one breast radiologist who deals with breasts exclusively.

If you don’t care to wait six months for a follow-up, you don’t need to. You know your body better than anyone. (Check with your insurance provider about coverage for these appointments. Also remember that you can ask any medical provider if you can pay your balance in installments. If you don’t have sufficient coverage, inquire if there’s a clinic in the area. If you’re in the DC area, it’s worth the trip to Sibley Hospital if you have insurance, and the Capital Breast Care Center if you don’t.)

Question: I’ve never felt any lumps. Are there other things that I should be looking out for?

Answer: Yes! Make an appointment with your doctor if:

1. There’s pain under your armpits;
2. There’s discharge from your nipples, or a change in your nipples' color or size;
3. Your breast changes in size or shape;
4. The skin on your breast looks different;
5. You are a man and feel pain in your chest or notice abnormalities in the appearance of your nipples or pectoral area; and/or
6. Anything doesn’t sit well with you. Trust your instincts!

What happens if the doctor wants you to get a sonogram, mammogram or biopsy? What if you or a loved one receives a breast cancer diagnosis? I'll tackle those in future posts. Comment on here or Formspring, Tweet or email me at citygirlblogs (at) gmail with any other questions.

PS If you’re interested in joining my Komen Global Race for the Cure team or making a donation, click here. You can join the team under the “sleep in” option even if you don’t live in DC or are unable to participate in the 5K. There's a promotion code through May 31st to save $5 off the registration fee. Enter HIGH5 in the code box.
 

Simmering

I felt like a little girl in a grassy field, holding a daisy in her hand.

I love him.

I love him not.

I really like him.

I don’t know what I want.

I felt like a woman of a certain age, sitting on a porch, fanning herself.

I might love him.

Ooh! I need some lemonade. These hot flashes are getting out of control!

I might just like the fact that he’s been around so much.

When will these prescription drugs get out of my system?

I had this idea that a date night with Best Boy would clarify everything for me. (It might have been the steroids or the menopausal hormones clouding my mind.) Could one night in public – our first since we had started sleeping together and I had started chemotherapy – help me figure out what, if anything, I wanted out of our relationship?

We decided to meet at halftime during the Conference Championship Playoff games at Café Milano. (I had lost a bet six months prior and knew I needed to pay up with a nice meal. But, since both of us were sports fans, we didn’t want to miss the game.)

Dinner was nice. The conversation was nice. We both looked nice. That’s a lot of “nice,” huh? But, all that niceness didn’t feel great. In fact, as dates go, it was rather dull. We were both exhausted from our respective weeks so neither of us was our usual extroverted selves. And, the game wasn’t particularly exciting by that point so the televisions didn’t provide much distraction.

I wondered if our dynamic didn’t translate well when we weren’t at my place. For several months, we had a great mode as friends who would socialize together. And, then, we began having sex right after I had my lumpectomy. Casual brunches and lots of time at my place had replaced our light-hearted and flirtatious conversations at bars and events. Did our relationship only work when Best Boy was taking care of me, or we were at my house?

I also wondered what, if any, role my upcoming beach trip with my ex-boyfriend and very close friend, Philly Matt, played. Earlier in January, I had shown Best Boy the house that our group was going to rent for President’s Day Weekend. He and I had sat on my couch, clicking through the photo gallery of the amazing 11-bedroom rental.

I had let Best Boy know that I wasn’t sure if the trip would be “Friends Only” or not, and that I was waiting to hear from Philly Matt about his plans. I had figured that I would invite Best Boy, if Philly Matt invited his girlfriend, Tammy. When Philly Matt said that he wasn’t going to invite Tammy, I decided not to ask Best Boy to join me. I also indicated to Matt that I had hoped to meet Tammy over dinner when I was up in Philadelphia in March for a conference.

I wasn't sure if it was just work and the holidays that had caused Best Boy to be less available to me. Was he tired of coming in second? In May, I had chosen his best friend, Mr. Exec, over him, and then in September, I chose Mr. Agency over him. Now, I was seemingly choosing a guy with whom I wasn’t even having sex! As easy-going as Best Boy is, that pattern might not sit well with him.

When Best Boy and I arrived home after our dinner date, we both had trouble keeping our eyes open, and yet, we still managed to have sex. There was more of the same in the morning before he headed off to work.

I had hoped for fireworks, but instead, there were only a few sparks. Why was that? And, was it coming from me, from him or from us? Maybe it was just too soon to tell. I didn’t feel overwhelmed or sad about the situation so I felt it best to simmer some more.

My mantra with Best Boy had become:

Time will tell.

And, as we all know, it always does.
 

Open to interpretation – Part 2

Best Boy had just told me that he loved me. Did the fact that he said it for the first time ever while we were having sex negate the sentiment behind the words? Was he drunk and this was a case in which I should blame it on the alcohol? Did he really love me? Did he just love having sex with me? Or both?

Between the steroids, the chemo-induced menopause and the late hour, I wasn’t thinking clearly before Best Boy came over. I really didn’t know what to think now.

We flipped over so that I was on top of him.

Me [smiling]: You said you loved me.

Best Boy smiled back at me. We looked each other in the eyes before kissing again. After we finished having sex, I laid on top of him for a few minutes. We fell asleep for a bit before I woke up and moved back to the bedroom. (Best Boy and I never slept on the sofa bed together when one of my girlfriends was already asleep in my bedroom. I'm not exactly sure how that had become our mode, but it worked.)

I heard Best Boy wake up in the morning and went back out in the living room to join him. We cuddled and talked on the sofa bed about work and treatment. When there was a pause in the conversation, I asked:

So…what was up with the ‘I love you’ last night?

Best Boy: I knew you weren’t going to let that slide. [We laugh.]

Me [smiling at him]: Correct.

Best Boy: Well, I didn’t put it in context.

Me: Okay.

Best Boy: I have a lot of feelings for you, but I didn’t mean it like I’m IN love with you. I meant that I care about you and HAVE love for you.

Me [smiling]: Okay. I understand. [Short pause.] And, in that case, I love you, too.

He smiled back at me, as his hand touched my cheek.

Best Boy: I knew you were going to bring this up! And, this conversation is going to be a blog post, isn't it? [He says with a grin.]

Me: Yes, it is.

We laughed before I leaned in to kiss him. I decided to take his words at face value. At a minimum, we did care about and have love for each other. We could figure the rest out in due time.

When I heard my friend wake up, I left Best Boy in the living room and headed toward the bathroom.

Me: Just wanted you to know that Best Boy is here so you don’t come out without any pants.

Friend: Best Boy is here?

Me: Yeah.

Friend: I had no idea!

Me [with a mischievous giggle]: Well, thankfully, you’re a heavy sleeper.

Friend [pausing]: Did you have sex with him?

Me [smiling]: Yep.

Friend: Really?!?

Me: Yep. And it felt right. Oh, and he said he loved me, but he might not have meant it like that. [She stares at me with wide eyes.] I’ll tell you all about it on the way to brunch…

Open to interpretation

I had hoped to go out again with Stanford Man after our inspiring and enjoyable brunch, but much to my dismay, he needed to go out to Caliifornia for work. We emailed each other regularly, but it was clear this project was going to consume the majority of his time in the coming months. I hoped that I wouldn't have to wait too long to talk more with him in person.

On January 14th, I went out to an early dinner with two girlfriends. One friend came over afterwards and decided to spend the night. As I was getting ready for bed, I received a text from Best Boy. (I was thankful that my friend was a heavy sleeper so that the vibrations from Best Boy’s texts didn’t wake her.)

He was downtown, having drinks with some of his friends. When he texted me that, I assumed that he would ask to come over afterward since he knew better than to drink and drive.

Best Boy and I hadn’t talked since he had come over the prior week. I had yet to determine what, if anything, I wanted from him on the relationship front. I trusted that all would resolve itself in due time.

When he texted me that he was getting in a cab to head over to my place, I got up and prepared the sofa bed for him. I opened the door after hearing his light knock, and he immediately put his arms around me and started making out with me. Our kisses tended to be sweet, but this kiss was different and much more passionate than I was used to from him.

I didn’t have time to think about where this was going — in the short or the long term. All I knew was that it felt right. Within five minutes, Best Boy had taken my sweats off and had lifted me on top of him.

After I had gotten off, Best Boy took off his pants, and pulled me down on the couch and on top of him. When we transitioned, he got on top of me in a traditional missionary position.

He bent down to kiss me, as he thrust deeply inside of me. When our lips parted, he looked down on me and said:

I love you!

I was totally caught off guard. I didn’t have time to think about whether he really loved me or if he was just saying that in the heat of the moment. I have absolutely no poker face so I looked up at him with an expression that indicated my total confusion.

Best Boy [pause]: I love it!

I continued to stare at him with my eyes wide and my brow furrowed.

To be continued…
 

The Icicles Cometh!

Enjoy it heated.

Admire the beautiful presentation.

Try it chilled.

Think of how long it took someone to make it.

Smile, knowing that you’re putting only healthy ingredients in your body.

And, when you’re done, place it in the dishwasher.

For a minute there, you might be wondering if you clicked on a food blog. But, fear not, dear readers. You’re in the right place.

I’m talking about a glass sex toy.

Pipedream’s Icicles No. 18 from Fascinations at Fun Love is a hand-blown massager made of durable and safe Pyrex glass. Hand-crafted glass products are free of phthalates, nonporous and hypoallergenic. Quality glass toys are tempered when they are made, and that process ensures that the glass is silky smooth and four to five times stronger than regular glass. (Translation: This product was crafted so that it won’t break if you drop it on a hard floor, but don’t start throwing it off of your balcony to test its durability.)

Glass toys like the Icicles No. 18 respond to temperature changes.

“What does that mean?” you might be wondering.

Well, you can use this toy heated or chilled by:

1. Running hot or cold water over it;

2. Heating it up in the microwave. (Since all microwaves and bodies are different, start with ten or fifteen seconds and test the result on your stomach. Continue heating the product up gradually to your desire temperature);

3. Placing the toy in the freezer before use. (Again, start with five or ten-minute intervals so the product isn’t too cold for your liking); and

4. Keeping a bowl of ice cubes, or hot or cold water on your night stand.

Glass vibrators also warm to your body temperature so as you get hotter with each stroke, the toy will get warmer, too. When you’re done enjoying the Icicles No. 18, you can clean it with toy cleaner and warm water, or place it in the dishwasher. When cared for properly, a glass toy is designed to last a lifetime.

Hand-blown glass is a great choice for those of you seeking a durable and body friendly sex toy. The Icicles line of toys is reasonably priced from $32-$70 with the Icicles No, 18 priced at $56.99. What in particular will win you over about the Icicles No. 18?

1. It’s beautiful. Most vibrators don’t win on aesthetics. The Icicles No. 18 looks like it belongs in a curio cabinet, not a toy drawer;

  

2. It can be used by men or women, as it was designed for g-spot, clitoral and anal stimulation. The size of the tip and the blue glass details around the shaft were not just placed there arbitrarily. The top of the toy hits the g-spot or prostate just so, while the blue nubs rest on your clitoris or anus;

3. It’s great for new and old toy users alike! The length and width provide a fulfilling experience without being overwhelming to novice toy users and couples. If you're a first-timer, make sure you remember to use a lot of lubricant before inserting the toy; and

4. For those of you who typically prefer vibrators over dildos, this toy will provide you with ample entertainment without any batteries required! The lack of vibrations is also an added benefit for those women who get desensitized by regular use of vibrators.

I’ll give the Icicles No. 18 a strong Four Squeals of Approval. If you like glass toys, you’ll really love this one! And, if you haven’t tried one yet, what are you waiting for?

* Pursuant to FTC Guidelines, I received the Icicles No. 18 free of charge in exchange for my honest assessment of the product.
 

Take that!

A year ago this week, I found a lump in my right breast, as I was trying on clothes for the Fashion For Paws runway show to benefit the Washington Humane Society. That same weekend, I noticed that my very shy rescue dog, Flake, began sleeping as close as she could to my right side. A year ago this week, I also decided to hold off on submitting the initial paperwork to start the adoption process because I had a feeling.

My intuition and my dog’s sense of smell turned out to be correct, and I was diagnosed with breast cancer on June 22, 2010. (I later read articles about medical studies regarding dogs’ ability to sense the presence of breast cancer with 88% accuracy.)

Since finishing chemotherapy and radiation a month ago, I’ve been fielding a lot of comments like:

Wow! Your hair is growing! You must be feeling better!

You’re done with treatment! So, everything’s good now, right?

Unfortunately, though, being cancer-free hasn’t felt freeing. Yes, I’m done with treatment, but I’m still not feeling well. The low blood counts, muscle weakness, exhaustion, and forgetfulness continue. I dyed my buzz cut back to red in the hopes that I would feel more like myself, but that didn’t do the trick. I want my long hair back, and I want my body to look like it did before all the steroids. I realize that everything is a process, but patience has never been one of my virtues.

Something happened over this weekend, though, at this year’s Fashion For Paws. I was finally able to let go of the bitterness and sadness that I’d been feeling over the fact that I haven’t rebounded as quickly as I – or the doctors – would have liked.

I let it all go with the toss of a wig.

“The toss of a wig? What does that mean?” you might be wondering.

Well, when I found out that I would be wearing a Betsey Johnson outfit for the fashion show, I had an idea. I suggested to Jane, the manager of the Betsey Johnson store in Tysons Galleria, that I wear a wig down the runway and toss it into the crowd.

Me: That’s probably too crazy for Fashion For Paws, though.

Jane: I love it! It’s like Betsey’s last show. Do you have a minute to watch a video?

I nodded my head, while Jane switched the DVD on the television screen in the store. The finale of Betsey Johnson’s Fall 2011 show in New York City featured Betsey’s store managers walking with Betsey-inspired makeup and blond wigs. The last manager fiercely took his wig off, roared and tossed it into the crowd.

Jane pitched the idea to the team from Fashion For Paws Executive Director and The Aba Agency, and I was told that I should go for it! The wig toss turned into the “Wig Finish,” when I learned that I would be closing the show. My excitement grew, as did my nerves, at the thought of pulling this all off in front on a crowd of 1,800 people.

Adrenaline kicked in, and I was instructed to take my wig off in an exaggerated way.

Lolly from Betsey Johnson Georgetown: It needs to be really, really big! Don’t just pull your wig off. Tear it off! Rip it off your head.

Me: Okay. Should I roar like the manager in the show in New York did?

Lolly: Yes! And make it exaggerated so that everyone knows what you’re doing.

So, I went for it. I really went for it.

  

And, when I tossed that wig into the crowd, I tossed with it all of the negative emotions that I’ve been struggling to process for the last month. Over the past year, cancer has won more than its share of battles against me. Through one toss, I was able to remind myself that I have won the war!

Take that, Sergeant Aggressive Strain! I’m getting IVs every three weeks to make sure you don’t come back.

Take that, Colonel Cancerous Tumor! I do self-exams so I found you!

Take that, Admiral Abnormal Calcifications! I get annual mammograms so my radiologist saw you sneaking in.

Oh, and Captain 15% Chance of a Stage Four Recurrence, I’ll bet against your victory any day! You are not coming back here anymore! I’m taking hormones every day for the next five years to ensure that!

My body may not be up for celebrating yet, but my mind finally is.

  

That that!

Bah! Humbug!

As I began to wonder if Best Boy and I could be more than just good friends with benefits, I tried to gauge where he was coming from at this point in our relationship. On Thanksgiving, I sent him a text to say:

When I think of all the people I’m thankful for this year, you are high on that list. Thank you for making a very tough time so much easier on me. It means more to me than you know. xoxo

I started thinking about how frequently our relationship dynamic had changed since May. Best Boy and I were friends for a while, while I was spending time with his best friend, Mr. Exec. After my situation with Mr. Exec had ended, Best Boy and I became friends with benefits. When I started pursuing a relationship with Mr. Agency, I stopped sleeping with Best Boy. That lasted for seven weeks until it was clear that Mr. Agency wasn't able to handle anything serious or monogamous. So then, I started sleeping with Best Boy again. (Are you confused? It's my life, and I sure am!) 

Throughout much of my relationship with Best Boy, I was recouping from biopsies, surgery or chemotherapy. I needed all the help and companionship that I could get, and Best Boy was there for me — a lot. Was he just there for me because we were good friends? Or, was he there for me because he had feelings for me beyond friendship? I didn't know the answers to those questions.

Dating in a traditional sense was incredibly difficult during treatment since there were weeks on end in which I didn’t feel well for a single day. If there were good days, they often occurred right before I was due to receive more chemotherapy. I wondered if it might be nice to go out on a proper date with Best Boy. I was curious how our dynamic would be if we tried to interact more like a couple. Would the comfort and caring that he had shown me so often inside my house translate if we were out in public?

After we returned from Silver Diner to satisfy my craving for Caramel French toast, I kissed Best Boy goodbye and said:

I should be feeling better starting next week. It might be nice if we went out at night for a change. Maybe Ceiba or something?

Best Boy: Okay. [Pause.] It’ll have to be next weekend, though. I have a lot of work projects and meetings this week.

Me: That’s fine with me. I should be feeling even better by then. I love having you over, but I also love going out with you. It's been too long since we've done anything beyond a little brunch. [We kiss goodbye again.]

I walked into the house with a smile on my face. Best Boy and I texted throughout the week, but the following weekend came and went without any mention from him about going out to dinner.

A few days later, Best Boy texted me, asking how chemotherapy had gone and if he could come over. I wasn't feeling well so we just watched a game on television. Best Boy talked about how much he had going on at the office so I didn’t want to disregard that it was a stressful time of year for him. I also wasn't in the mood to bring up the fact that we hadn't gone out to dinner. We feel asleep and had sex in the morning before the worst of the side effects hit.

Over the weekend, Best Boy came over again. He helped me out when I was too sick to do much of anything. I was so grateful for his help, but a part of me wondered if I had missed my opportunity to date him. Did I wait too long to realize what a great guy he was?

I wasn’t sure if I would see Best Boy over the Christmas holiday. We were both staying local, but he had a lot of family obligations that weekend. I had hoped for at least a call or text from him on December 25th, but that day came and went without him contacting me.

I had dinner with friends the night after Christmas. One friend commented how she was rooting for Best Boy.

Me: I had finally decided that I was, too! But, it might be too tough for us to transition to anything more than friends with benefits. He didn’t even wish me a Merry Christmas!

While we were out, the notification of a Facebook email from Best Boy came in on my Blackberry. The message said:

Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoyed yours to the fullest!

An email? A day after Christmas? On Facebook? Was he kidding me? I turned to my friends and told them the latest.

Me: I think there should be a rule that if you’re fucking, you should at least have to call and wish her a Merry Christmas on the day of! [My friends laugh and nod their heads in agreement.]

When I got home from dinner, I found myself more irritated than sad. I just sent Best Boy back a text that said:

A FB email?!? Really? Hope you enjoyed your Christmas. xoxo

He wrote back that he had been having problems with his cell phone. (And, yes, his Android has given him problems since he first got it.) I rolled my eyes at the text.

I had chosen Mr. Exec and Mr. Agency over Best Boy in the past. And, now I wanted to see what would happen if I just focused on my relationship with Best Boy. Had I missed out on the chance to do that?

My 25 cents

After Philly Matt and I broke up in 2006, we stayed in touch and enjoyed occasional benefits with each other. We both dated other people, but for over a year, we never discussed that fact. Our break-up was too fresh, and we were still transitioning from exes to friends.

In 2008, our friendship really started to grow and the benefits became secondary. No topic was off-limits between us, although we tried not to be too detailed about other people we dated. When I started this blog, I was pleasantly surprised that he became one of my first regular readers. As I prepared to write the posts about our break-up, I asked him if he was okay if I included everything that happened.Philly Matt: Of course. What you write is honest and what happened. How can I have a problem with that?

In 2009, he passed on my blog link to a co-worker. The next day at work, the co-worker walked in, turned to Philly Matt and said:

You’re an idiot!!!

We both laughed about that and frequently commented about how lucky we were to be such close friends. It can be tough to be good friends with an ex, but we managed to do so. I also let Matt know that I would not care to read intimate details about him and any of his girlfriends (past or present).

Me: I don't mind knowing general details, but I give you credit for reading all the stuff you do about me with other guys.

When I was with “Buckeyes” Boy, I had a hard time figuring out how Philly Matt could join our group at our annual ski trip without causing “Buckeyes” Boy to get jealous or mad. When Matt started dating Tammy, I questioned whether his relationship would impact our friendship. I hadn’t addressed the matter directly with him before I blogged about it. The following day, he called me to say:

I want you in my life until the day I take my last breath. You are a very important person to me and anyone I date will need to know that and be okay with that. If you call me in the middle of the night and need me, she's going to need to understand that I have to go. Staying friends with you is not negotiable.

Philly Matt was my confidante and a great advice giver. I’m not normally one for tough love, but Matt always managed to phrase his constructive criticism in a way that was endearing and resonated with me.

In late November 2010, I learned that Philly Matt and Linda, the mother of his children, had been dating on and off since they met in the early 1990s. The fact that we were exes and close friends and that I hadn’t heard of this before caught me completely off guard. We regularly talked about Linda, Tammy, his ex-girlfriends and his children. Getting involved repeatedly with the mother of your children isn’t trivial information.

If I had felt 100%, I might have addressed the issue immediately. But, the combination of steroids, early menopause and chemotherapy drugs had me feeling emotional, foggy and exhausted. I figured I could bring the matter up when we spoke next and that’s what I did. When the topic turned to Linda and the children, I asked:

Has Linda brought up your relationship with Tammy again?

Philly Matt: No. I told her that she needed to let it be, and I think that’s what she’s doing.

Me: That’s good. [Pause.] You know…I was surprised to hear when we talked last that you and Linda had been on and off for all these years. When we dated, you told me that you guys hadn’t been together since Chloe was a baby. And, we talk so frequently, it’s odd that this never came up.

I paused to let him say something, but he didn’t.

Me: I’m happy for you and Tammy. I’ve never heard you talk about a girl the way you talk about her, and I hope to meet her when I’m done with treatment. But, I’m rooting for you and Linda. If you guys keep coming back to each other year after year for 17 or 18 years, then there has to be something there. [I pause again, but he doesn’t say anything.] And, anytime you’ve brought up Linda’s comments about Tammy and your responses, none of them are: Tammy’s the one. I’m in love with Tammy. This is it for me.

All of your responses are about how Linda had her chance and how she chose to break up with you. That sounds more like you’re upset at Linda than choosing Tammy over her.

Philly Matt: Okay.

I had given Matt my two (or 25) cents and have never brought up the matter with him again. I kept my focus on the fact that I was thankful to call him my friend and looked forward to having him down in DC for my fifth round of chemotherapy in December.