Slut Shine

One of the most understated benefits of being slutty is the way it can sometimes make the world shine.

Last year I was at my favorite goth club. Flirted with a girl half the night, and we left together. I had recently entered a new phase of my life, though. Now when I went home with someone there was a non-trivial emotional cost to a loved one that hadn’t existed before. It made me wary about following through on this. I made a half-hearted effort to disengage— out front, after last call, as everything was shutting down. The disappointment in her eyes and feelings of guilt brought me into her bed regardless.

It was a nice night, if unremarkable. We learned some things about each other, the sex was nice but nothing to write home about, and afterwards we cuddled and commiserated for a while longer before I took my leave. All the while nagging doubt pulled some of the joy from the experience—made the moment less free, less pure. It was almost a relief to leave.

On the way home I searched myself. Had this been “worth it”? A brief connection like this… it was nice, but it was fleeting. The new cost of such an encounter seemed more significant than the encounter itself because it was longer lived. I resolved to be more discriminating in the future, so hookups would be more “worth it.”

Jump ahead eight months.

I’m in my favorite goth club again. It’s late, it’s been a fun night, if a bit on the quiet side. I’m getting ready to head home. As I pass someone near the bar she says “Hey, good to see you.” I look down at a cute girl I don’t quite recognize. That doesn’t mean much of course, I don’t know everyone, not even all the regulars. I hold still, trying to place the face, and she can tell I don’t recognize her.

“It’s [name]” she helps. A memory sparks at the edge of perception. I notice a particular identifying feature, and instantly everything snaps together. The name, the face, the voice, the hair, the night together. It’s the girl from a few paragraphs back. And suddenly everything brightens. The club noise fades for a moment and I see just her. Knowing eyes shine up at me. I see she’s with a guy, a half step behind him. She’s saying hello. She’s saying “I see you.” She’s saying “We connected for a bright moment. I remember. Do you?”

I do. It wasn’t much. It was the smallest thing, in the grand scheme. No one’s life was changed. But it was warm and joyful and I remember. I see you, too.

I hug her and glance at the guy she’s with and give her a fist bump and wish her a wonderful night, and we go our separate ways. But now I’m glowing, and I feel lighter. I can’t stop smiling as a walk from the club.

That night with her was, in fact, absolutely worth it. Because it isn’t just about individual nights. It’s about grounding out places for joy, places were magic can seep into the world. It pools around us, uncovered by luck, but flowing from the channels we carved. They shine for ages and ages, and we can shine through them.

When I exit the club onto the street the entire world shines, and it shines and shines from every person and car and building and front door and nightstand and blanket until I eventually fall asleep. I bet it shines from me all night long.