The kind of unicorn I'm talking about may not have a horn and a mane, but it's definitely a mythical creature.

The first time I ever heard the term "unicorn," I was living in Richmond, VA and in the midst of an epic, post-breakup bender. On a barstool in a dive called Mojo's, I was three whiskeys deep into a night that gets real hazy at the end, and seated next to my friend Jett -- best know for her awesome sex podcast, Booty Jams.

I had just told Jett the harrowing story of the first of what would be many rebound sex adventures, in which I slept with my high school best friend. For many years, he was "the one who got away;" never single at the same time, we had spent years secretly fawning over each other at different times. Post-breakup, we were both single for the first time, and had one night of terribly-awkward, friendship-ruining sex, mostly because he did not share my opinion on the whole "terrible" part.

Jett listened intently, nodding politely but chewing her straw to bits as I lamented my poor decision-making skills. I could tell she had something to say, and when I was finished complaining, she looked me dead in the eyes and uttered the words that changed my life:

"Never bang your unicorn."

I laughed. "Are you drunk?"

She explained: "He was your unicorn, we all have one. That person in high school or college that you had a platonic love relationship with. Every outsider thought you were together and you had to explain over and over again to your family that 'No, we are just friends.' It drove you nuts, sleepless nights going over every little detail of your interactions. You both tested the waters with occasional touches, inviting more, but for some reason, it never happened. Still, this person shakes you to your core. If they call you drop everything to see them. Last minute dinner plans? Sure! They can do no wrong in your book. When you spend time together you think 'If we just did this, things would be perfect.' Sound about right?"

I nodded, ashamed. I don't like to admit that anyone can call my moves before I make them; being predictable is a fate worse than death in my head. Jett picked up on my shame, and smirked.

"See, the universe was looking out for you. You didn't sleep together for all those years for a reason, and because the 'what if' built up for so long, there is just no way it is ever going to be as good as the fantasy. Ever. You've spent years making this person into a sex god; the best lover that has ever touched your sweet little body. In your dumb brain they know your every desire, meeting you breath for breath and climaxing together in a cloud of glitter and applause. Is that what it was like?"

"Stop," I pleaded. "I already told you what it was like. It was like having sex with someone who was mid-panic attack in the lobby of the post office."

"I don't know what that means, you should switch to beer," she said. WHY IS SHE ALWAYS RIGHT?

I learned many things that night (most of which I will not disclose here, because mind your own business), but it is my sworn duty to share this brutal truth with you: Unicorns do not exist.

Once you do it with a unicorn, you realize this, and they're gone. You believe your friendship will make it past this brief interlude of awkwardness...Wrong. The flashbacks of your bad sex (what you will later describe as "the worst sex of your life") will force you to keep your distance.

Think about your history of sexual partners and/or relationships: How long did it take before things became physical? In most cases, not very long; the signals were clear, the trajectory was swift. There's a reason why you've never banged your unicorn.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking about one person right now, and you're telling me I'm wrong. Okay, maybe I'm wrong, but don't say I didn't warn you; some things are better left as fantasy -- if you put your genitals all over it, it's going to be ruined. Keep your pants on and keep the fantasy alive.

Jackie Mancini is the associate editor of GuySpeed and an unabashed lover of large breasts, porno, foul mouths and loud music. Her childhood diagnosis of Oppositional Defiant Disorder is most likely responsible for her current position as the only female employee of a men's website. Her column ‘The [Fairer Se]X Files’ appears every Wednesday. You can read more of her work here, and you can also follow her on Twitter.