December 2024. 7:30 am.
I saw it coming.
"What a handsome guy", I thought.
And as if my gaze had more power than the blood of Christ, the guy dropped a frozen bottle of water that rolled to my feet.
"Sorry", he told me.
"Relax, it's an original way to break the ice."I replied with my best bitch face, that I don't know how good or pathetic she is.
He smiled.
Plus point.
He was as perfumed as he was busy; a cold office must have been waiting for him… What a shame, there are so many warm places in the world.
Well, yeah, not so macho either.
Our steps/streets diverged but met later on, right at the entrance to my gym.
«"At least I know where you train."he exclaimed.
"Come when you can find me" I answered him… in a sort of riddle before the escape.
Yes, on the run. I couldn't stay until he asked for my number and I—obviously—entered a wrong digit and faced the awkward "I'll ring you," only to reply, "Yeah, yeah, it's vibrating there," while pointing at my wallet and praying that the real owner of that line didn't exist, didn't answer, or didn't return the call so quickly.
I trained, laughing my head off, thinking that sometimes it's fun to play the game of trying to intimidate someone, of feeling capable of tipping the balance, just like that, foolishly and selfishly, without any pretense. I concluded that perhaps the game of conquest is inherent to being human: We all want to seduce, and we all like to be seduced.
Sure, I did it from the sweetness of being single. But maybe in that guy's life there was or is a woman who would have died of fury if she knew he responded to my game.
If I were her, would I have been angry? Yes, I certainly would.
But have I ever done that while in a relationship? Yes, I have.
Did I give importance to my actions? No.
Was it important? Yes, it was.
Why? Because we basically flirt outside of the relationship when we stop doing it inside, and, deep down, maybe it's like the Spanish writer Manuel Jabois says, and "There's even more cheating in saying 'goodnight' from bed while watching a series with your partner than in a quickie with a stranger."
That's what they call: Emotional infidelity.
I have fallen there, I think many have, until we understand that, as the author says, "Some people are so confident in their Catholic upbringing that they believe there's more infidelity in having sex than in writing to another person. And flirting is natural. And sometimes one can—through inertia, unconsciousness, pleasure, or frivolity—fall into it. But writing to someone, calling them, etc., is a romantic relationship, an act of infidelity, whether there's sex or not."
Sometimes that "inertia" is actually the monotony your relationship has fallen into, that "unconsciousness" is how little you care about the other person, that "pleasure" is what you lack with your partner.
And why? Damn it, why do we stop "fooling around" with the one we love?
I wanted to end relations with that "simple" but unequivocal argument:
I don't want to continue with you because you no longer throw me a flirty line, you don't kiss me with tongue, you don't spank me when you pass by, but I was the target of "mockery" or "minimizations" like:
Please, Jessica, we are not teenagers anymore, we have so much time together, adult life, worries, blah blah blah, until I convinced myself to continue with something that, evidently, was already dead, so that later the autopsy would reflect: infidelity, instead of having resolved that thing with a "This love died because its owners stopped groping each other." and now, without third parties, without so much drama.
Even though it may seem like a silly thing to do, "flirting" with our partner elevates us because it makes us feel desired, and that, even if some don't see it, creates a different connection, makes us know ourselves better, and makes tomorrow not so scary.
I even remember talking about it with a couple of friends and receiving similar responses:
"Over the years, sister, all that ends. If women left their boyfriends or husbands for that... there wouldn't be a single couple left in the world."
But, come on, I've seen old people grabbing their asses in the middle of the street and... I don't want anything less than that for myself.
And I don't want that because that also reflects our vision of life: I don't want to share my "old age" with someone who believes they are already dead, that sexuality (in general) ends with menopause or erectile dysfunction... because even children - if they have any - leave, but maybe your partner will stay and... how annoying it is to share your maturity, your years of absolute freedom, with a jerk who won't even hold your hand.
Then, I remembered a text by the Argentine/Spanish writer, Carla Mouriño, about flirting, and I think that's all I need to close this column:
«When a couple keeps flirting, it's like adding fuel to the fire. It's like an antidote to the passage of time. It's a sign that they're not taking each other for granted... A wink, a text that makes my friends ask who I'm talking to, that you see a song and send it to me, a joke that only we would understand, a silence looking into each other's eyes for more than three seconds. Flirting is a rebellion against taking things for granted. It's a vital push, a laugh, a relief... because, whatever happens, a little bit of flirting makes us remember to play.»
Mutually.
Let's keep fooling around... "for life"... is it possible?
By: Jessica Dos Santos /Instagram: Jessidossantos13
Tell me your story, write it however you like, together we shape it and share it. In life, spreading the different forms of love is always necessary: lasultimasnoticiasdelamor@gmail.com
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Of course it's possible. But there's a difference between "flirting" when you're 30 and in a relationship of 3 or 5 years, and doing it when you're 60 and married for 35 years. My wife and I still flirt, but it's definitely not the same. It's pleasurable, yes, but different. We can't expect emotions to remain unchanged. At least that's my experience.
This is something my husband and I do on a daily basis in our relationship, which has been going on for 42 years now. We continue with this groping, flirting, etc.