By AMY O.
Alright, I confess: Even though this column is dedicated to one night stands, I totally didn’t sleep with the guy who slept over this weekend. He pulled away while we were making out and asked me point blank, “Is it weird if we don’t have sex tonight?” My response obviously was, “No, of course it’s not weird … but can I still give you head?” Oh come on, there have to be other people out there who enjoy giving head.
Anyway, this male was a friend of a friend who was visiting Cornell. Based on looks, he’s completely, 100 percent not my type, but once we started talking I realized how much I wish I could meet someone like him on our eternally gray and snowy campus. Please, you find me someone who loves hiking, cooking and traveling, plays the cello, is funny and down to earth and finds my weirdness genuinely endearing, and I will say set me up for formal (I’m not kidding, I really will need a formal date eventually so please email me if you or someone you know fits these criteria).
So when he left the next morning (not before we had brunch … I told you, he’s basically perfect) I was almost surprised that I felt absolutely no remorse or sadness. We went our separate ways, pretty much destined to never meet again. And that felt completely, totally okay.
Here’s the thing — had I met this boy last year, I know I would have spent days pining over him. I would have wasted hours poring over and analyzing the few texts we sent back and forth the day he left. I would have lamented my woes to my roommates and would have been giddy at the sight of the friend request he sent me on Facebook.
Though I’ve had my fair share of one night stands, I’ve always convinced myself they were 24-hour whirlwind romances. I even once talked myself into believing that a boy I knew for 24 hours was my soul mate. That is, until he boarded a plane to Los Angeles and — sayonara sucker — I never saw him again. I’ve come to realize that the beauty of the one night stand is that whether the sex was good or bad, it scratches an itch that needed attention.
Some people argue that one night stands are unfulfilling; the sex usually isn’t great (both parties are typically inebriated), you feel kind of empty walking away (insert bad pun here) and the morning-after conversation can be horrifyingly awkward. So why bother? Why have I chosen to dedicate my semester (or year … or life in general) to such a seemingly stupid act?
Provided both parties enter this act with the same intentions, it’s just simple, casual, carefree, no-strings-attached sex. Most importantly, it doesn’t try to be anything else.
Provided both parties enter this act with the same intentions, it’s just simple, casual, carefree, no-strings-attached sex. Most importantly, it doesn’t try to be anything else. If I had a nickel for every minute I wasted reading and rereading conversations I had with guys trying to interpret the “deeper meaning” behind what they were saying, I would probably be able to pay Cornell tuition out of pocket. And it’s not just me! I watch my girlfriends do this, I watch my guy friends do this — all of us just trying to figure out what game, if any, the other party is playing. It’s sad to watch and I’m embarrassed that I wasted all that time and energy. To be totally honest, those precious minutes could have been spent studying for all those biochem exams that I failed (probably wouldn’t have helped, but you get what I mean).
It felt really awesome to walk away from this weekend’s semi-sexcapade (giving him head must count for something) with none of those wishful feelings. And though anyone could argue that I felt this way because we didn’t have sex, I simply don’t think that was it. I believe it was just the perfect one night stand. Both of us approached the situation with an open mind, no judgment and didn’t care where the relationship would go. If we meet again, we meet again; if not, thanks for not hogging the blanket.
Amy O. is a senior in the College of Human Ecology. She may be reached at email@example.com. Some Like It Rough appears alternate Thursdays this semester.