I Fell In Love With A One Night Stand

Late last year, I was at the peak of my Latino/Caucasian men addiction that I didn't think I'd ever want to be with a Filipino ever again. Then I met M. He wasn't particularly remarkable. He was attractive and had an amazing body, but was not really remarkably handsome. With his moreno skin and average height, he could easily be overlooked. My friend, E, even nicknamed him "Kargador" because according to her, without the corporate get-up, he could easily pass for one. (But she's nasty that way and because she likes a guy we dubbed "Bulingit", her opinion doesn't count.) He was seemingly un-special. I don't even remember how or why he caught my eye. Maybe I was just bored. Maybe because he didn't look like he belonged here, despite his clearly being Filipino. Maybe my taste for clients was piqued. But catch my eye, he did. He had that brooding, mysterious air about him that never fails to catch my attention. Still, I wasn't seriously interested. It was just an itty-bitty crush.

At that time, I was dating a white guy online who was moving to Manila, and we were talking about the possibility of having a relationship. I eventually flew to Manila to be with N, who turned out to be the quintessential toxic bachelor, and was screwing more girls than I can count with one hand. So I came home with my ego a little bruised and my walk noticeably different (go figure!). Still, N and I continued dating from afar while I stewed on the fact that he was probably dating a dozen other girls. He eventually wanted to talk exclusivity but by then, it was too late.

I was seeing M more and more often. We got introduced, and what started as a harmless little crush, became a complete obsession. I wanted him. One night, one week, one month, it didn't matter. I was completely burning with desire that I even scared myself. I just wanted him. And I always have to get the guy that I want. I manipulate. I flirt. I bat my eyelashes. Whatever it takes, I always get the guy, one way or another. So I researched. I found out that he lives in New Jersey, is 32, going through a divorce, and has a 9-year-old lovechild. I knew where he was staying, what his schedule was, and what he likes to do. I had opportunities to say hello but I never did because he always looked like he was mad at something. Except for that time when we were introduced, we've never spoken a word to each other. Subtlety was never my strong point. I stalked him and made myself visible to him at every possible moment.

I eventually got a hold of his number. The first time I texted him, he was so aloof that I gave up. Still, I wanted him so bad. We'd lock eyes and though my friends told me otherwise, I knew somehow that he wanted me too. But I was tired and embarrassed, so I stopped texting him. Then I heard that he was leaving and being the crazy person that I am, I texted him again. This time he was so much nicer. He explained that it was against his company's* policy to fraternize with vendor employees. (Later on he would tell me that, by this time, he already found out it was me he was texting with.) For some reason, I was encouraged so I took a risk that I've never ever taken before in my entire life: I asked a man out. I asked him out. I figured I was better off knowing instead of wondering.

To make a long story short, we had drinks in an obscure little bar near the casino in his hotel. It was our first, real conversation but I felt like I've known him my whole life. We talked for hours. We found out that we liked a lot of the same books and the same music. We told stories about our families. We shared secrets. I told him about my past. He told me about his ex of seven years, the whore who cheated on him all the time. His marriage never came up. He wasn't wearing a ring and I didn't see any visible ring lines, so I assumed my source was mistaken about the divorce. He told me that a lot of people have been texting him and asking him out but he always refused, to the point that he was downright rude. But he said he couldn't say no to me because he wanted to go out with me since we were first introduced. He seemed perfect for me in every way that a man could be perfect for a woman. I was falling fast and I was falling hard. I knew then that if I had sex with him that night, I could ruin everything.

And I did screw up. I don't know how it happened. I remember we got kicked out of the bar because it was past closing time. I remember he grabbed me and held me close to him for a long time. I remember thinking that I should leave, that I should walk to the hotel's giant doors, and that I should catch a cab home. I remember ignoring the voices of reason screaming in my head as I rode up the elevator with him and walked the long corridor to his room. I remember his arms around me, his lips finding mine, and the magic that I thought I've lost forever. I remember all coherent thoughts leaving me while I reveled in his touch and his kiss. I knew then that I had lost. At that moment, I surrendered to him not just my body, but my heart and my soul.

I asked him if it was a one night thing the morning after and all he could say was he was leaving in a couple of days. I didn't know what to think. That night I texted him that I wanted to talk, my last desperate attempt at making sense of things, and he said we shouldn't be texting because "its not good". So I texted back and told him that I get it, that I understood that I was just the "girl he screwed to get over being screwed". I promised the secret was safe with me, and I said goodbye. I was prepared to move on because I knew that I screwed up, and the sooner I got over it, the better. It was supposed to be over. But then he called me after I sent that final message. He said I misunderstood things. He wants to know more of me and see me without the secrecy but he loves his job, and as long as I work for the company, we can never be together. He promised to call me when he comes back in May, and he hopes I would've left the company by then.

So now I am faced with the idea of choosing between a possible relationship with him and the job that I loathe but can't afford to leave. I don't even know if he meant what he said, or if it was just some lame attempt at being the good guy. I haven't heard from him since. He didn't even bother to say goodbye on his last day. I have to know that he's worth it before I take the plunge. Yet, I'm also afraid of being too cautious because if I stay with the company, I might lose the chance to be with him if he does keep his promise. I am so confused.

And the plot thickens. After further research, I've found out that he really is married. Is he really getting divorced, like what my source first told me? If so, why didn't he tell me?

I fell in love with a one night stand. Its damned near impossible to move past that. One night stands that become real relationships are the stuff of urban legends. And if that isn't enough, he's still very much married, and that makes me the filthy whore of a mistress. What a mess. I know I should let go but I can't. I am hopelessly and completely in love with M. People keep telling me to move on, that its over. Is it really? Because it certainly feels like it has just begun.

 *The company in question is different and far more strict than J's.