But that was six weeks ago. What's happened since then is a decent story, a bit of a mystery, and not something I'm interested in reporting here at the moment. Although, there is one aspect to my current Latino predicament worth considering morally, socially, and personally for a moment: the nature of meaningless sex.
One of my very best girlfriends, Miss Independent, has been engaging in "meaningless" sex with an ex boyfriend for a few weeks, since they were so good at it while they were together. It seemed to make sense to continue the enjoyable part of the relationship, once everything else had tumbled downhill.
This was the theory I applied to my own situation.
Alejandro and I did not work out due to timing. (Timing--i.e. I broke things off because he couldn't meet my needs, and he did not fight to stay in the relationship because of my neediness.) The first time we hung out post-split was just last week, 7th row at a baseball game, first base side. After the unexpectedly amazing blended margarita--generally speaking I'm an on-the-rocks gal--and after discussing our "timing" issue a little more thoroughly, I came to a solid conclusion about where things should go next.
"Well, just because we're not dating doesn't mean we have to stop having fun... I liked the fun... What do you think?" I offered. He was shocked.
True, I'm a self-respecting and demanding girl, so offering to have fun without dating was a bit of a shock, and certainly a first.
"Girls don't usually make offers like that," he said.
"I'm not most girls."
His body language completely changed. He leaned in and put a hand on my knee. "So, when are we going to start having this
fun?" he asked.
"Whenever you'd like."
He laughed. "If it were up to me, I'd say let's leave now." (Alejandro, as it turns out, is not a big fan of baseball anyway.)
I kept my eyes on his, gave a half smile with one raised eyebrow, then threw my purse over my shoulder and stood up.
"Let's get out of here," I said.
Turns out our team lost the game anyway.
And that's how I took on my first ever no-strings romantic endeavor. There are rules to these types of arrangements though; five basic rules.
1.) Always use protection, no matter what.
You're not there to prove your loyalty or feign monogamy or increase intimacy. You're there for a purpose, and there is no reason to ignore the safety etiquette. It's a matter of respect from one human being to another.
2.) There is one need this other person satisfies, so don't call to satisfy
any other need.
Need a shoulder to cry on? Someone to talk to? A date for a family or friend function? A ride? An extra jersey for Sunday's game-day celebration? CALL SOMEONE ELSE. If you are alright excluding this person from every other part of your life, then go ahead and make a "meaningless fun" pact.
3.) Date other people.
It is essential you separate this arrangement from your actual romantic life. Obviously, if things start to heat up with the other person you're dating, you need to boot your booty call. Don't let your booty call ever get in the way of a chance at the real thing. Ever. That's a baaaadddd sign. If your booty call is the one you want to share intimate dinners and deep dark secrets with, then I suggest you stop everything now. Because, let's face it, he's not gonna buy the Popsicle stand once you've supplied your frozen desserts for free.
4.) Shhhhhhh...
Want to maintain any sense of self-worth and dignity through this? I suggest you keep your mouth shut. I know what you're thinking, "But you're blogging about yours!" Yes, I run a huge risk of sacrificing my dignity with this public confession, but I hope to serve the greater good with what I've learned. (And, for the record, I never said Alejandro and I had sex.) The reason for secrecy's imperativeness comes down to the world of distortion you welcome with the inevitable judgements from others. Society isn't ready to accept this type of arrangement. As a nation, we're flat-out PRUDE. And, as a woman, you must be particularly careful because you are very likely to be reprimanded for this arrangement, while the man is more likely to be rewarded. There are exceptions to every rule, but for the most part we know how the Slut/Stud imperative works in this country. The last thing anyone needs is to feel like shit about him/herself, so shhhhhhh...
.
5.) Always be honest with yourself.
This is the ultimate rule of engaging in meaningless fun. You must never pretend things are really okay if they are not. The moment any of the above rules are broken you must get out. This arrangement lives on the edge of a perilous cliff, and you can't mess around with such things and expect no consequences. The reason these arrangements receive criticism stems from the participants' inability to follow this one final rule.
.
Miss Independent's situation breaks almost all of these rules despite her best efforts. She is stronger than most, but even she walked into a trap. Because of a recent, total breakdown from my independent friend (who never cries), I realized engaging in such an arrangement with Alejandro came with its unavoidable demise attached.
I don't have the connection or history with Alejandro that Miss Independent has with her ex. For her, the waters were so murky it hurt. (A lot.) Currently I'm enjoying the Latino Lover in my back pocket, but if you play in the waters long enough they too get murky, no matter how clear they were to start.
As Jordin Sparks appropriately said, "Why does Love have to be like a battlefield?... You better go and get your armor." On a battlefield, one must remember:
know thy enemy, and know thyself. For me this means I have to recognize I will almost inevitably develop feelings for Alejandro if things continue. Sure I'm safe now, but my enemy in this case is my desire to care and my desire to love. Therefore I must prepare my armor: self-awareness and self-preservation. When things begin to get deep, I must get out. No exceptions. It's all any of us can do.
He decided we were friends, which adds a complicated layer to the supposed fun-only relationship. Does that make us friends with benefits? Ugh, what an ugly term. And, if so, is it really a benefit?
Only if you've got your armor.
Because, if you want more, and you're not suited up, you'll be singing a different tune--try Leona Lewis's "Bleeding Love."
And, please, don't forget it.
