I had only been at my boyfriend’s place for about half an hour when he told me to go home. We had had sex, then cuddled for a little while. I wasn’t expecting the visit to be over already.
It had started with Halloween cookies. I was baking them with a friend and told him I would leave some in his mailbox for him to collect. He had just come back from a trip with his family, and we already had plans to see each other on Monday. Dropping off cookies was a small extra, something I could do before our actual evening together.
Then he asked me to come over for a bit. Instead of leaving the cookies in the mailbox, I went to his place.
We’ve been together for about a year. I’m 22 and he’s 28, and although we live close to each other, we don’t see each other all that often. I’m in college and work 25 hours a week at a part-time job. Usually, we manage to get together about once a week.
Those visits have a familiar shape: we eat together, I spend the night at his place, and then I go home. There’s time to be a couple around the sex, time when we’re simply there together. A short visit didn’t have to be an overnight stay, but this one was extra time with someone I don’t get to see much.
As soon as I arrived, he made it very clear that he wanted sex. He kept kissing me even while I was trying to talk. We ended up having sex, and afterward we cuddled. Then came the part where he wanted me to leave.
I asked why he was sending me home right after we’d had sex. To me, that was what had just happened: I’d come over, we’d slept together, and now the visit was finished. It was hard to separate the invitation from the timing of the goodbye.
He didn’t agree with my description. We hadn’t stopped cuddling the instant sex was over, he pointed out. We’d been cuddling for about ten minutes. To him, that meant he wasn’t asking me to leave right away.
I hadn’t been trying to establish the exact number of minutes that counted as afterward. I was trying to explain why being asked to go home felt abrupt. His answer dealt with how long we’d cuddled, while I was still wondering why our extra time together had ended there.
He also reminded me that we would see each other in three days anyway. Monday was still happening; this hadn’t replaced our plans. I knew that. But I’d come over because he’d asked, and having another visit scheduled didn’t quite explain why this one needed to end after half an hour.
Then he gave me the other reason. There was an important soccer game he wanted to watch. Our next visit was in three days. The game was that day.
