First Shack Ups, Now Hook Ups

A hookup, for the sake of being clear, means sex with a person you barely know and may never cross paths with again. The point is the orgasm, nothing more.

We went from shacking up to hooking up, each step putting more space between us and anyone else. The logic seems to be that you can't lose what you never let yourself have in the first place. But refusing to feel close to the very person you're sharing an intimate act with strikes me as a sadder arrangement than two people simply moving in together with no promises attached.

There's something about hookups that echoes pornography. You go through the motions of sex while feeling nothing for the person across from you, so where does an actual emotional experience fit in? And dropping the caring doesn't drop the consequences. Infections and unplanned pregnancies don't check first whether you were in love.

A lot of people seem to want the living without any of the owing: no commitment, no obligation, none of it. Respect and honor and responsibility get shoved aside in the process. Those are the parts that give life its weight, though. They bring pain along with courage, and glory along with honor, and those are the experiences that teach us how to carry a loss, even one we did nothing to deserve.

The times I learned the most were usually the times I was sure I was about to fail and had no idea what came next. Getting out of the box meant doing something that wasn't in the box. I had to hand over a piece of myself I hadn't known was there, and gamble on failing and being let down. Being smart was never a guarantee I'd come out on top.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained?

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