He lightly knocks on my door and I bolt up from my couch, excited he is finally here. I open the door and pop out my head because I’m not really fully dressed and don’t want one of my creepy neighbors seeing me half naked. We both lock eyes and I flirtatiously say “Heyyy” with a huge grin on my face and he reciprocates with a “Hiiii” and a wide smile. Overcome by our palpable sexual tension, I quickly open my door wide and pull him by the collar of his shirt towards me and we start to make out passionately. He tells me I look great (baby). He grabs my leg and wraps it around him and it’s all over. We’re not making small talk, or teasing each other, we’re just hooking up. like now. Please and thank youuuu.
Minutes later I drag him into my dimly lit room, completely disregarding the standard, polite apartment tour shtick, as he holds onto my waist and kisses my neck. He tells me to put on the playlist I made for us. The first song is one of my favorite songs in the entire world, “Nude” by Radiohead (so that should be enough explanation of how amazing this playlist is, if you have never heard that song before, do yourself a favor and listen to it and the entire “In Rainbows” album while you’re at it, it’s mind blowing good and dreamy and sexy). Other artists on this playlist are: The Weeknd (which I totally introduced him to so I hope he thinks of me when he tries to hook up with another girl to that, hah!), Drake (I know, I know, but that song “Over My Dead Body” is so fucking good), Polica, Nosaj Thing, Toro y Moi, Elliott Smith, Fiona Apple, Bibio, Little Dragon, Grizzly Bear, etc.
I step onto my low-to-the-ground IKEA bed and take his hand as he puts his hand through my long hair and touches his lips to mine. Then we have amazing sex. Not gonna go into the details but it was mind-boggling, crazy good sex, our sexual connection was intense, to say it lightly. After were done “touching each other”, were cuddling in my bed arm and arm, leg and leg, hand in hand, as he dreamily stares into my eyes and sweetly kisses my nose (ugh, Gooood, this is so corny but true! Eek!).
Then I impulsively blurt it out, I can’t help but ask him, “So what are we? What is this?”, he sighs and starts to lay it all out. We started to have “the talk”. Yeah, yeah, you all know about the fucking “talk”. The “talk” where you and this person have to decide what you are, what you mean to each other, do you wanna commit to this person?, is that even realistic?, how much do you really like me and vice versa? Do you want this person to be your bf/gf or do you just want to be “hookup buddies” (even though we all know those things never end well, it’s infeasible, and if you have mastered the hookup buddy I wanna pick your brain and ask you how the hell you made that work because I’ve found it to be impossible!). I tell “Matty” I really love being with him and spending time with him, I feel so comfortable around him. I add that if we kept hanging out and enjoying each other’s company I could see us being together exclusively. And he says the same about me. BUT he doesn’t want me to be his girlfriend. No, correction. He tells me, and I quote (mind you as were laying naked in bed together and just had passionate sex), “Marisa, I think you’re amazing. You’re smart and funny and pretty and have a great personality, you’re everything anyone would ever want in a girlfriend. But you will never be my girlfriend”. I instantly retract away from him as he is holding me; I was disgusted and flattered by this statement all at the same time. My face squinches up in repulsion as I try to pull away from him. He tells me not to squirm away from him and not to be like that. I say, “Like what? How am I supposed to react to that?!” I think retraction is the proper reaction in that moment. But I let him go on. He tells me, “The thing is 1. You’re Jewish and I’m not Jewish” and I reply, “And? Who cares it’s not like were getting married…” and he replies, “I know but I dated a Jewish girl, like I told you before, for four months and I didn’t like how she couldn’t tell her parents about me. You wouldn’t be able to tell your parents about me and I don’t like that. I am in the place in my life where I want to date people I could in the future potentially marry”. Okay that was number one. Jesus. That was a fucking handful of a statement. “And 2. You’re moving to Israel in February and it’d be expiration dating. I’ve done that before and always end up getting hurt. I get attached really easily and I don’t want to put myself through that again”. I take all of this information in and inhale a deep breath. Sigh. This is quite the predicament. I like this guy A LOT. But he will not let himself give in to me, even though I know he wants to, I can feel it in my gut, in my bones.
So I tell him in response to all of this, “Okay, okay, I get where you are coming from and it makes sense. But I don’t really agree with the whole Jewish thing. I am very Jewish. True. And I ultimately want to marry someone who is Jewish. But I’m 23 years old and am not getting married any time soon so I like to date whoever, I honestly don’t really even date Jews. I believe in meeting and dating a lot of people so I can learn what I ultimately do and don’t want out of a life partner. Also my parents are in Ohio and I’m in Philadelphia, they don’t need to know about anyone I date. And also “Matty”, who’s to say we’re even gonna want to be dating by the time February comes along. Why can’t you just give us a chance? Anything can happen. Who knows what will happen. Just give us a chance”. He hears me out but sticks to his guns. And I have to accept this because I really want to keep seeing him, being touched by him, kissing him, laughing with him, etc. So we decide to meet in the middle and agree upon being “hookup buddies” because neither of us wants to stop seeing one another. Then he adds, “Also, we can hook up with other people, but we don’t tell each other about other people were hooking up with. Because then I’ll get really jealous. I do not wanna think about some other guy with you” and I agree and say, “okay same goes for you, obviously”. We pinky promise to stick to this agreement, sweetly kiss on the lips to seal the deal and chuckle at this weird yet cute transaction. I sigh of breath of relief, happy that this conversation has ended and also settle into the reality of our relationship.
He warmly touches my soft skin all over and I am once again completely powerless to deny him. I am enthralled by his touch and consumed by our sexual connection; we hook up again. As we’re hooking up again, I remember he tells me I am beautiful and I should know that, I reply “Thank you” and smile back at him shyly, my cheeks warm as I blush. In that moment I am touched by his sweetness and sincerity and I will probably never forget that. I have a snapshot, a picture in my mind of that lovely moment, where I was laying, where he was kneeling, the charming tone of his voice, the timidness in my voice. I remember it perfectly. Jesus. Also, the gorgeous song “I Know” by Fiona Apple is forever ruined for me because of him because I have another snapshot of us hooking up while this song is playing in the background. UGH. such a good song. such a shame.
An hour or so later as we begin to fall asleep and the 2-and-some-hour-long playlist has ended, I remember thinking to myself, “That was the most beautiful and amazing sex I’ve ever had in my life. Ever.” It truly was beautiful and I tell him it was the best. Because he deserves to know, shit. Whatever, it’s the goddamn truth. And even though, many women’s advice magazines would probably tell me not to disclose this information to him, I felt the desire to. I didn’t want to hold anything back; I didn’t want to play any games since we were being so honest with each other. And I’m SO OVER GAMES anyway. Fucking dumbest shit ever. We fall asleep spooning, leg and leg, arm and arm, face to face.