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And she wasn't even saying he was bad in bed! Just not the greatest sex she ever had. Which no fucking shit. The best sex is always with the very pretty boy too boring for words but highly cooperative while you climbed him like a tree, or the complete narcissist who managed to hold in the assholishness until you finished the task at hand, or that truly weird dude who is vaguely disconcerting but damn he had the practice and stamina to be memorable. It's a trope to have scorching sex with a recent ex for good reason, with all the passion and dysfunction jumbled together to be so good in the moment, but leave you feeling so bad in the afterglow. Sex with the actually dateable dude doesn't start fantastic; it starts functional and slowly builds to incredible over years of shared experience, attention, love, kindness, respect, and safety.
