There are some things about my past that keep me in there, and they’re mostly mistakes that have consequences that I need to face. One of those consequences sent me back to my hometown, which is so small that I have more fingers on one hand than I have decent guys to date. It’s been difficult, especially since I’m trying to find a real boyfriend in the only way I can (online, duh), and Tinder doesn’t even work in my parents’ house. The nearest guy on Growlr is a 30-minute drive away, and the guys on Grindr are not only pickier than the ones in Manila, they’re uglier, too.
Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on which side of the moral compass you’re standing on), years of consistency on the dean’s list, underage partying and behind-the-closet-doors dating have molded me into a scheming liar with the veneer of a disciplined merit scholar. Mom doesn’t need to know that dinner with a visiting friend leads to an after-party that ends at dawn, nor does she need to know that the way I prepared for my post-graduate admissions test involved me kissing a guy, and then some.
Still, I was stuck at home for a while, and it took time to set a date with a guy. Thankfully, Growlr had location filters that allowed me to flirt with guys from Manila from the comforts of my childhood bedroom in the province. A time limit called for lower standards, so I had to settle for Charlie, whose name I didn’t get until we actually met. I really wasn’t attracted to him, but it was hard to convince strangers to sleep with you when it’s already 3PM. I had to swallow my pride for that 27-year-old, five-foot-tall college sophomore with crooked teeth and eyes set apart way too far and didn’t know what Stan Smiths were. I reminded myself the whole time—nobody is ugly in the dark.
By the time we were both naked in bed, I was absolutely repulsed by him. The thought of kissing someone like him, when I’ve kissed guys like Nory and Diego, nauseated me, so I did one of my old tricks(1) to turn a guy off—I talked. I taunted him, falsely challenged him to be a better kisser than the Brazilian, and to make me moan the way Walt did, but he tried to shut me up by putting his dick in my mouth. That was his short-sighted mistake… because from him sitting on my face, he thought that he could take advantage of me by unfairly returning the favor. He started by blowing me, but then he turned his body around, so we could do it to each other.(2) Only, we couldn’t really do it to each other. Because of our 10-inch height difference and my limited ability to bend in certain positions, his penis couldn’t reach my mouth, and it definitely wasn’t close because the farthest it went was up to my neck. Thank the Kama Sutra gods for giving me a get-out-of-Charlie-free card, and all it took to play it was a whimper of a laugh.
I still let him sleepover because I’m not entirely heartless, but I realized that settling when I had a clear picture of what I wanted is not even going to lead to that. It has its shortcomings(3), and it’ll never satisfy what my heart is looking for, and apparently, not even what my body is looking for.
- Something I’m not very proud of, but it works.
- This is me failing to describe 69 without mentioning 69.
- Pun definitely intended.