How did I end up like this? A year ago, I was happy-ish, had a strong relationship, I was just genially a good girl. Then a few months ago, I wasn’t so good. Now I’m not gonna lie, I’m always honest. I’ve been the “side chick” a few times to a few different people. I’ve been having fun, and what way to boost your ego, than have a man risk his relationship, and one case marriage on me!
At first I didn’t know I was a “side chick” I was just dallying away, getting caught up in his string of lies, and then it clicked, ‘no you are not busy, you are seeing someone’ I messaged him, a message came back. ‘We need to talk.’ My heart sank, I’m being broken up with…again..well I say broken up, we wasn’t even a thing. We arrange to meet in a bar, both sit down, he grabs my hands. “I’ve been in a relationship for the past 3 years!” I was shocked.. “oh!” I say back, my heart sank. “I don’t want to stop seeing you, I’ve wanted you the past 3 years, but you was with someone, so I got with someone, and now your single, I want you.” His lies ment nothing. “Well what exactly do you want from me?” I ask him. “Sex and your friendship. I want you in my life as a friend, but I want sex, it’s too good to stop.” He was right, it’s so addictive with him, like a need, you know two people have that instant connection, that’s just pure passion..it’s hard to pass up on. “Okay, say I was to agree to this, what happens now?” My head was trying to get behind the logic, most of you reading this will be discusted or think how much of a slut I am, or think this girl is crazy. Well your right, I am crazy. I’ve had my heart ripped out, stamped on and handed back to me. I’ve been hurting, I’ve been made to feel worthless and discusting, I’ve been humiliated and I’ve never done anything for me. “Well we carry on, we meet up, talk as we were.” He tells me, smiling as he leads me outside to the car park. “Okay, yeah, but I get to see others too!” We both laugh and then make our way back to some dark lane for the first official bit of fun as his “side chick.”
when I get home, I go full detective mode. I log onto my Mac, get my twitter search on, searching my “secret mans” name. Now let me say something, me and this guy have known each other the past 3/4 years, and we only have each other on snapchat and whatsapp. No social media, it’s odd because I’ve never searched for him either, until that night. Well I find him, click his profile, nothing out the ordinary, tweeting about football, drinks with mates…oh he’s “@’ted” some girl, “@girliwillnotname funny babe xxxx” fuck sake, he calls me babe.. I click her, I let out a laugh. Now I’m not one for thinking I’m good looking or pretty or worth ending a relationship over, but oh my. She’s the opposite of me. Dark brown hair, make up that looks like a five year olds done it and bright pink lipstick, oh and selfie done at a unflattering angle. I feel like I know why he wants me. Stop it Tayla, stop it, she could be lovely. I scroll through her twitter feed, making a mental note of her name. She’s posting a lot of quotes about relationships, for example the ones like. “I hope I never fall out of love with you.” “I’ll love you when you’re old and grey.” “The best love is our love.” And my personal favourite “even when other girls try to get your attention, I know you’ll stay faithful, because I have your heart.” Wow. If only she knew. Should I tell her? She seems like a nice girl, but if I tell her, I know how it feels, how much it hurts to have your world ripped apart by someone you barely know. If I did tell her, would she believe me? If I told her, would he ever talk to me again? I carry on looking through her profile, she posts a lot of photos of them together, yet he don’t post any. I notice she talks to his parents a lot, they must like her. Oh mate why are you with this? I feel bad now. I was fine earlier when I had no idea what she looked like or her name, why did I have to search her? I shut down twitter and open Facebook, I know he’s blocked me on Facebook, that’s a given. So I search her, oh she’s that girl that posts the however many years and months posts…like “so lucky to have my man.” Jesus Christ, I hate that. No wonder he’s cheating, even I feel suffocated by her emotion and I barely know her. I can’t fault her though, I’ve known him for the past three years too and I’m starting to develop ‘feelings’ my cold icy walls are melting when it comes to him, he is a well and truly, devil dick. I’m slowly but surely, replacing my melting ice walls, with rock hard ones. Ain’t nobody getting to my heart again. Especially not this rascal.
Now I wish I could say I’m done with being a “side chick.” I like to call myself a “side dish.” Like when you order a meal at a restaurant, and you order a pasta dish, yes it looks lovely, and you think it will fill you, and on the menu it looks yummy and you think it’s all you need, half way through you realise, it’s nice, but it just won’t fill you, so you call the waiter over and ask if it’s possible to have a side of fries or garlic bread or something else, something maybe to accompany the taste of your main meal. So when the waiter brings your side dish to you, you taste one of your fries and you start to feel better, you still eat your main meal, but you can’t stop eating from your side dish. When you’ve finished your meal, you’re full. You knew you wouldn’t be full, if you just had your pasta dish, but when you ordered you fries you knew you would be. Have I just compared myself as a bowl of chips? But I think this is how to explain why guys have side chicks. I know you can always order something else, something bigger that may fill you, but sometimes you have cravings, and sometimes it’s okay to act on them. I’m slowly starting to fizzle away from this situation I’m in, I keep telling myself. We’re better off as friends
I’ve got more stories of being a side chick, but that’ll have to wait for another day.