I want my Pilot Guy!

18 Oct

Every day we wrote to each other. Right away we fell into an exciting routine, exchanging explicit messages laced with romanticism and unspoken hope. It felt as if it had always been like that, like we belonged, like our minds had found each other after searching for so long. It was sweet and fulfilling, and I never wanted it to end.

After his visit, he unclicked. All that excitement, all that want, vanished from his messages until his messages slowly vanished too. This left me on shaky ground. What was I supposed to do when he promised he wouldn’t break my heart, but it felt like it was breaking?  I can’t even continue writing the sex story we had begun to write together because it hurts too much to remember how it all started.

He said this was not a good moment for him.  After things get settled at work, he’ll let me know and we’ll talk. He is about to get some life changing news that are coming too soon after a move that took him from the world he always knew to my corner of the Caribbean. I understand his anxiety. I also understand that it seems to be in his nature to run away when things get complicated in his life. Apparently it’s difficult to change what you have been doing since you were a teen. Maybe that’s why he’s a pilot too.  He can fly away at any given time.

I don’t mean to act as if I was all that important for him. He had just met me, and even though I feel like I know him, I had just met him too.  I wonder if we’ll talk ever again.  I’d like to know if he has thought of me, at least once in the time that we haven’t exchanged any messages.  I want him to say that, yes, he misses me as much as miss him, and that he never wants to miss me again.

He has to come back to me, because the characters in our story were left speeding away in car in search of a drug lord who has secret information about a worldwide conspiracy.  These stories can’t be left unfinished.


Of the time when I lost my soul to a tequila shot

11 Oct

The waiter brought the two Patrón shots, because it was a night of indulgence.  He licked his finger.  Touched my neck.  Licked it again.  Dipped it in the salt, and smeared it on my neck. He latched his mouth on to my neck.  His tongue licking, sucking, torturing, sucking some more.  Electricity coursing through my body.  Knees getting weak.  Body heat rising.  An impulse to just jump him and passionately kiss him right there, in that restaurant’s terrace where we were on our first official date.  I did just that.

He’s a dangerous boy.  Has had a thousand lives in the same time span that I’ve had my small, almost inconsequential life.  He’s intelligent, educated, wild, sexy, funny.  There’s even a little dimple that forms on the top corner of his oh-so-hot-n-crooked smile.  But I didn’t know any of this when I decided to send him a message on the dating site.  All I knew was that his smile looked delicious, and I couldn’t pass the opportunity of letting him know that mine was too.

We agreed to meet on a Sunday, but it never happened.  I was about to not give a shit about him, but I texted him.  He answered by asking what was I doing.  I offered two options:  pedestrian truth, or fantasy.  His choice started a chain reaction that has been exhilarating and incredibly revealing.  I sent him a story with a sexy setup, and he responded with an unexpected but seamless continuation of the same story.  That night the story went back and forth, between us, gathering each others contributions and taking the shape of a very hot, steamy, sexy, and naughty story.  It has evolved into something worth publishing.  Writing it has felt like making love with our minds, at a distance.

This was the click we needed to make our first meeting a necessity.  We met the next Sunday at his place of work.  After the first half hour, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.  To stop kissing felt unnatural, and we had to say goodbye too soon.  Pilot Guy lives on a different island, so he had to leave.

The next weekend we had our first formal date.  There was a lightning storm out at sea, while we walked the cobble stone streets of my island’s colonial city.  The electricity was undeniable.  There was even a moment where the whole world disappeared, and it was just us in this dark plaza hugging and dancing like we couldn’t let go of the other.  Amidst all this magic, the tequila shot happened, and I simply lost my soul.

How they met

13 Jun


She was waiting at the bar, looking so hot because she couldn’t help it.  She is sexy even in spite of herself.  Maybe it is because she is “latina,” or maybe just because.  Right then, the cocky kid walked in.  Button down black shirt, rolled sleeves, Starbucks coffee cup in his hand, and dazzling smile.  Five minutes after, she was sipping the alcoholic concoction disguised as coffee that he offered her.  She couldn’t have known that she was in for it right then.

After a brisk walk, that left her all wet with sweat, they got to the other bar where they were going to hang out with a group of strangers who, try as they might, would never look like locals.  They came in and out of each others’ line of sight several times.  Each time he became more daring.  She became weaker by the minute.

Flirty looks and furtive touches led to forgetting about the rest of the strangers.  Amongst all those people, he kissed her.  She was awkward.  The great kisser that she is couldn’t get the rest of the people out of her mind.  It was not supposed to happen this way.  He wasn’t supposed to be this blunt.  She wasn’t supposed to forget about herself.

He led her out of that place.  Held her hand while walking through dark streets.  They kissed like adolescents discovering the tug that begins in the belly and fills your body with electricity.  They almost didn’t make it all the way to his place.  She said no, then yes, and then no again, forgetting how much she wanted until she couldn’t forget anymore.  He said please don’t leave, and she stayed long enough to savor the moment.

The breakthrough that took me months to communicate

7 Jun

savasanaWhoa, guys!  Who would’ve known that keeping up with this blog while trying to keep my life together during these past months would be impossible.  It felt like a speeding train going off the tracks.  The thing is that it is still going on.  Cliffs notes are like this: I changed jobs and worked for three weeks when I suddenly had to leave and go back to my old job, which I lost back in April.  Koothrapali/Sheldon Guy vanished from the face of the earth.  I met Yogi Guy, who is 10 years younger than me.  Had a great time with him, but no sparks.  He is gone too.  Smoker Guy made an appearance, of which there is nothing to say.  I had a fall out with a close friend that hasn’t been resolved yet.

In the midst of all of this, I made a discovery that I was itching to share with you guys.  It came to me while meditating on savasana at the end of a yoga class.  I was considering my interaction with Koothrapali/Sheldon Guy, how I had told him that I did not want to be in a relationship, and how I felt about it.  More to the point, I was considering if I really felt like I didn’t need romantic love in my life right now.

Thinking of what one wants and what one needs, takes a lot of honest introspection.  I realized that I had been saying for quite some time that I wanted a romantic relationship, but that I really didn’t need it.  So, what did I want?  What did I need?  I certainly was in a quest for something.  That is what I told you guys.  That is the mission statement of this blog, right?

So, here is my discovery:  it turns out that I really didn’t need anything.  All the love that I was waiting for Dear Universe to drop on my doorstep, I had within me.  I thought about all the people in my life that love me so much for exactly who I am.  The thing is not that I have gained their love.  They can be here today and gone tomorrow.  The important thing is that I have the ability of gaining people’s love, and I can do it just by being me.  This can be replicated time and time again.  You see, I am missing nothing if I have this.

It may seem like a silly thing to come up with after a strenuous yoga session.  You guys must think that my savasana lasted like an hour.  Maybe this knowledge that I stumbled upon was common knowledge, but for me, it was a breakthrough.  It changed a lot of how I feel about myself.  It also changed a lot of how I interact with people now.  It has liberated me of expectations that were not real.

There you have it.  I did release Dear Universe of her responsibility of finding me a man.  I don’t feel like I would be good in a relationship right now, but that is material for an upcoming post.  I do, however, enjoy company, sex, and intimacy, which don’t necessarily have to come in the shape of a boyfriend.  For now, I’m getting it from Coffin Island Guy, a 29 year old cubby whose story I’ll share with you guys some other day.

cubby n me

Don’t we look cute?!!!

The return of my body’s snatcher

8 Jan


You guys will not believe it, but the guy I talked about on my last post has resurfaced.  Koothrappali/Sheldon Guy is the weirdest specimen of man that I have come in contact with, and although I suspect he doesn’t got his shit quite together yet, he has been refreshingly honest with me.

So, after I wrote my sad, end of year post about being left with the feeling that he wasn’t interested, he texted the next day.  We had a cute “how was your new year’s eve?” kind of exchange.  Encouraged by his willingness to talk to me again, I texted him on Friday and asked if he was interested in being my “dangerous drinking partner” (inside joke) and he said yes.  Do you mind if I say that I did not consider this a date either?  Yes, I am that naive.

laplacitadesanturce0014We got together early in the evening and hung out at La Placita, drinking beer, people watching, and talking.  We had a great time, but the best part is that we had the most amazing conversation I’ve had with a man, I guess, ever.  It was certainly fueled by alcohol, but it was raw, and direct, and honest.  It felt like there were no hidden agendas, no half truths.  There were none of those pleasantries that people say when they start getting to know each other and which end up forgotten once they get what they want.  Koothrappali/Sheldon Guy said what he thought I wanted from him, and what he was and wasn’t willing to give.  In short, he said that I was too good of a girl and that turning it into a physical relationship would be too damaging for me.

You see how I know he doesn’t got his shit together yet?  He sees me.  He knows that me that I don’t quite know very well, but he doesn’t know the whole me.  He said he’s not looking for a relationship, and after much consideration over the past weeks, I have concluded that I’m not looking for a relationship either.  His mistake is thinking that I am unable to dissociate a physical relationship from an emotional one.

My Koothrappali/Sheldon Guy does not know about what I did that night after he kissed me, pressed me up against a wall, whispered some sweet dirty talk in my ear, told me about how much he desired me, and then left me wanting.  He doesn’t know that an old kinda “fuck buddy” of mine came by my apartment later that night.  We hadn’t “gone all the way” before, but that night we did.  It was good, fun, and totally devoid of romantic attachment.

Maybe Koothrappali/Sheldon Guy is not completely right.  Maybe he needs to reconsider at what time he will bow out of a non-date with me.

The non-date date, or end of year reflection

31 Dec

So, the other day I met a guy. He had posted a message on a site I visit often, asking if anyone was up for a drink on Friday night, and I answered. It wasn’t a date, it was just two strangers meeting for a drink at a bar.

Right away I liked him very much. He was cute, polite, nice, funny, dorky, and cool at the same time, but this was not a date.

We talked, and laughed, and drank mojitos and beer, and a moscato and vodka cocktail that he taught the bartender. I was having such a good time, I could not believe it, but this was not a date.

I don’t remember what time it was when he decided to pay the bill while I was in the restroom, but after he paid, he invited me to take a walk up to the beach that was right around the corner. This was still not a date.

We sat on the sand, and it started raining. I took out my umbrella and we huddled under it. I leaned my head on his shoulder while we talked, and talked, and laughed, but still this was not a date.

After a while, we walked up to a playground nearby and sat on a bench. We talked some more until I felt that my bladder was about to burst and so I had to go home. We had met at 6 pm, and it was now 1 am.

So what happened next? The usual, he didn’t call or text the next day. I texted him on Sunday, inviting him to see a very impressive cave called Cueva Ventana. He said he had to work but didn’t offer another alternative.

This is the last day of the year. I’m sitting in a dark movie theater, about to watch Anna Karenina, and trying really hard not to reflect on this past year. I feel like it’s been so full of rejection, of inexplicable behavior from men, and in summary, a lot of heartache.

I guess he forgot to say he’s married

18 Dec

I just met a guy.  He is thoughtful, tender, a good dancer, a great conversationalist, and it felt like he was as attracted to me as I was to him.

My teachers, hard at work during our workshop.

My teachers, hard at work during our workshop.

I was hanging out with this group of teachers I had just given a workshop to.  As I was packing all my equipment, I received a little paper from one of them:  “Don’t leave just yet.  We’re going out for drinks tonight.”  It was a Friday night so I had to weight this decision.  I could either stay at a town that’s an hour and a half away from my house, drinking and having fun with a group of hard core partiers, or I could go home and lay on the living room rug, watching TV and munching on whatever I had in the cupboard.  It was difficult, but I decided to stay and party on.

I have to say that I love this town, this group of teachers, and their school.  The town of Orocovis  is right in the middle of my island.  It is a mountainous small town.  People are super nice, humble, serviceable.  I have to visit two schools there periodically, and every time, I come out with a warm smile on my face.  I love this group of teachers in particular because they know how to have fun, and they have included me as if they’ve known me forever.

How can you not love visiting a school where the views look like this.

How can you not love visiting a school where the views look like this.

So this particular night we were bar hopping, drinking cheap beer and pitorro (this is Puerto Rican moonshine, but I’ll deny having any shots of it to anybody) when I was introduced to this guy in a jacket and ball cap who came in with his brother.  The first thing he told me was that he knew I was on the verge of a big change in my life, that I was afraid of this change, that I had some plans that made me feel anxious, but that I needed to trust myself, take the plunge, and that I would be successful.  Did he read my previous post?!!!

I was taken by him.  He was cute, about the right age (38), and I had his undivided attention.  We drank.  We ate.  We danced.  We talked.  We had soooo much fun!  At the end of the night, I gave him my number with the absolute certainty that he would call within the next 10 to 15 minutes.

And call he did not.  He didn’t call the next day, or the next week.  Four days after, I visited the school again and talked to one of the teachers there.  I told her about the guy and that I really would love to talk to him again.  Well, guess what?  She thinks that he’s married.

Is there anything I can say about this?  I feel stupid asking why, yet again.  I really feel like giving up on finding a decent, honest man.  They are definitely  mythical creatures.  They rarely come out to play with girls like me, I think.

That crappy, living room rug looks soooo inviting right about now.

BTW, this is what I look like when I have my pathetic Friday nights laying on the rug.

BTW, this is what I look like when I have my pathetic Friday nights laying on the rug.

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