if you have to ask for it, it's not worth having
When Shelley was 26 she was on-again off-again with this guy Pedro she'd met at a gig. He was a guitarist and watching him play made her so horny they'd go back to his place and screw their brains out until 5am, then sleep until midday, when he'd kick her out so he could go to practice or work on his car or whatever.
They never discussed it but it was understood it wasn't serious. They were busy being young and having fun, and it just so happened they had amazing sex, but he wasn't interested in a long-term deal and she didn't want their thing to get old, so it suited them both to keep it casual.
Then one day she was in the 7-Eleven and saw him pull up at the pumps. She was going to bounce out there and say hi, but a girl got out of the back seat and started schmoozing up to him, her hand on his groin, her lips on his neck, totally shameless. Shelley turned away and scolded herself for being jealous. It wasn't like he was exclusively hers... but still, it hurt to know he could be so relaxed with someone else.
She avoided him for a couple of weeks after that, not that he was calling every day or anything, but there was a gig she could have gone to on the Friday and didn't, and she hoped he noticed, because it was unusual for her to skip one of his. Still he didn't call. She became convinced the girl was his new main squeeze, and it burned her up.
When he finally did call he sounded perfectly normal, like there hadn't been any gap in their activities. She tried to hide her bitterness but he could tell something was up. Finally she blurted it out. He was shocked by the depth of her feeling. He reminded her they weren't exclusive. He expressed his intention to continue to play the field. He was having too much fun to settle down, even in the context of dating just one girl, and where the hell did she get off, anyway?
She hung up on him. Slammed the phone down, actually. Screamed at it. Kicked the cupboard a few times. Sat in the corner and bit her arm and screamed and cried and smacked the wall and moaned and sobbed and got snot all over herself. The housemates knew better than to ask if she was okay. They just turned their music up louder and counted the days until the end of the lease.
She slept for a while, still on the floor, slumped over with her head in the wastepaper basket. She woke with a stiff neck and a godawful headache and a sore throat. She stomped out to the kitchen (so nobody would make the mistake of thinking she was feeling better) and knocked back a couple of shots of vodka. Then she went out.