The Hunt

"Ano trip mo?"

In a time when communication is at its peak and a hook-up (however you want to interpret that) is just a few clicks away, how can anyone, sitting in the middle of the city, among millions of its dwellers, feel so alone? Is it because each one of us is so available and reachable that we tend to undermine the presence of who we currently have in our bed thinking that the next guy is a better catch? Are we relying too much on the possibility, that there's always someone better on the loose?

I am slightly torn between the meaning of sex. A part of me feels that it is merely a release, a form of escapism, and nothing but a deed to fulfill worldly needs with no emotional attachment whatsoever. On the other hand, I feel like sex demands passion, intimacy and chemistry, not necessarily love, but perhaps different levels of infatuation or a temporary liking towards each other. Libido and love - how very confusing.

"Got face pics/cam?"

I don't really watch the bachelor but I chance upon it once in a while. The season finale of the one where the Texan bachelor (Brad?) didn't choose any of the ladies, was on the tube minutes ago. I have to admit that I felt delighted in the fact that these ladies were turned down by a guy whom they claim they have fallen in love for on national TV. It makes it more real and believable. I think it is very brave of the guy to do such a difficult endeavor. Then it dawned on me. If these straight people who are clearly more socially acceptable (or at least on TV) and are less intriguing had to be in a reality show just to find love and soon fail, then what happens to the gay ones? How many people do we have to sleep with to finally find the one?

"Top or bottom?"

Love is clearly elusive. I mean, we had to make reality shows just to cater to all these people desperate enough to hunt for it in front of the whole world. And how about this? I'm not even sure why I'm talking about this right now. Just a couple of years ago I was determined to be single for life and sleep with half of the people I meet. But no, he had to come along.

"Do you have a place?"

He was in perfect timing, and his words were right on. I was young and vulnerable. The distance was a challenge but it didn't stop us. It went on for a year and half. Some people may think it's pathetic but my phone has never been so precious. When you talk to someone for that long each day of your life, shared parts of yourselves no one else has ever known, and all this suddenly stops, what do you do? No more hours of talking on the phone, no more non-stop messaging, no more exchanging of gifts.

"Wanna meet up now?"

But it's been a long time. I miss him but not in the way I used to long for him.

I'm no gigolo but god knows I'm no angel either. I've slept around; in risky public places and in the privacy of hotel rooms. I don't regret anything. I love the fact that I was brave enough to come out and get to know this side of myself. But as I have expressed a million times before, I think I'm ready to once again fall, be foolish and love every minute of it.

As a cheesy text message goes "I have longed to be free and fly, but deep inside, I long to be held and be captive in the arms of the one I love." Err, something like that.

"I'll be there in 3o minutes."

Carnal satisfaction is beautiful, but how many meaningless sex and unrequited affection should I encounter until I find someone who will not be just another orgasm, who will bother to stay and have an actual conversation? Am I sleeping my way to love? Or maybe away from it?