Sex Doesn't Mean Love

Alan J. Schwarz
5 min readNov 20, 2019

Moishe’s Mystery of Love

Moishe Simon always wanted to find love. He was twenty-five and had been on plenty of dates, but that feeling of ‘’ she’s the right one’’ just hadn’t hit him yet.

He had tried, Moishe had given it the best college try possible. He went on date after date and maybe that was the problem, the women were all starting to sound and look the same. He reprimanded himself for thinking that way, but the reality was that’s exactly what it felt like.

Moishe spent time with his Mom and when he told her he was frustrated because he had become a serial dater with no results, she told him to cool his jets. To take a hiatus, and when he resumed dating to go on one date a week, not three. He wasn’t being fair to the women he dated or himself. He was acting like dating was a buffet and it wasn’t. Each person brought their own special gifts and he had to start finding them.

After a couple of weeks of not dating, Moishe called a woman who his cousin had set him up with, her name was Lindsay and she was very different from all the women he had previously met.

She had created an app that was hugely successful, she was very smart and had a great sense of humour. She loved wine and didn’t mind drinking a couple of glasses before dinner and she wasn’t into small talk.

She wanted to know what Moishe was into, and what he was looking for in a woman. When he finished she looked at him and said ‘’You didn’t say anything about sex, aren’t you looking for brain freezing, fuckin’ out of your mind sex?’’

Moishe was a bit taken back, not one of the women he had dated had ever talked like that. He meekly nodded at her and it solicited a laugh from Lindsay. ‘’I don’t like guys who are pussies. You either share the truth or don’t waste my time.’’

She ordered a lovely veal piccata plate and another glass of wine. Moishe had Pasta Primavera and loved every bite. The more he looked over at Lindsay, the more that feeling of the right one was hitting him in the heart.

After dinner they both had a shot of cognac and shared a piece of Tiramisu. Lindsay finished the last bite, licked her lips and said ‘’Let’s go back to my place and Fuck, I want to feel you deep inside of me.’’

Moishe paid the bill in record time and called an Uber. All the way to Lindsay’s condo in midtown Toronto they made out like they were in heat.

Once they got upstairs, Moishe helped Lindsay off with her clothes and she reciprocated. She had a body that was perfect. They made it to the bed and Lindsay said ‘’Nothing happens without a condom.’’ Moishe didn’t know what to do as he didn’t have one. Lindsay in a fluid and smooth motion opened her bedside table drawer and pulled one out. ‘’Dude, you should always be prepared, I have to take off a demerit point.’’ She helped slip the condom on and they proceeded to have passionate sex. They repeated with different positions a couple of hours later, and then Moishe left.

As he was leaving Lindsay called out from bed, ‘’You were pretty good, thanks for a fun night.’’

The Uber arrived minutes later and after a shower at his place, Moishe slept better than he had in months. Before going to work , he tried to called Lindsay to say Thank You again, but his call went to voice mail.

All day he couldn’t stop thinking of her, he couldn’t wait to get together again. He called a couple of more times, but again it went to the dreaded voice mail.

Moishe attempted to get in touch with Lindsay for three days straight with no response or success. He was crestfallen. He had finally met the woman of his dreams and she had blown him off. His heart hurt he knew he was in love and felt frustrated. Lindsay was his soul mate. he just knew it.

At Four in the morning, Moishe’s cellphone rang and when he looked at the number his heart started racing, it was Lindsay. ‘’Lindsay, I am so glad you called, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, I don’t want to be the pussy guy, I want to see you, I think I’m in love with you.’’ There was a pause on the other end of the line and then laughter. ‘’Yeah about that, uh, it was nice meeting you, but I didn’t find the sex all that sensational and you were okay and a nice guy, but you’re not what I’m looking for. I wish you a good life. Now stop calling cause it gives me the creeps. If I ever need a booty call, I might call you, otherwise, have a great life.’’

When the phone went dead, Moishe felt devastated. He had been blown off. He had been discarded like a piece of tough meat. Then he had an epiphany. He had basically done the same thing to every woman he had dated. He didn’t sleep with them, but he had taken them out and treated them in a ‘’don’t call me, I’ll call you’’ manner. He had been callous and not decent at all.

It took Moishe a few days to get over himself and to understand that it wasn’t right to pass judgment on a date unless you actually spent time and got to know the person.

Over the next couple of months, Moishe’s dating life became better than ever. He always asked his dates if he could see them again after the first date and it worked. He made some outstanding friends and finally, he found his true love. Yvonne was nothing like Lindsay in terms of personality, but she was full of life and fun to be around.

Moishe never saw Lindsay again (except on the Business Channel when her app was receiving awards) but he always felt grateful for the lesson she taught him. He had been treating dating experiences as part of a routine, he'd date and move on, date and move on and it wasn't fair. Thanks to Lindsay's callous treatment (even though he thought the sex was incredible) he had grown as a person.

As his relationship with Yvonne got better and better he thought about how grateful he was that things didn't work out with Lindsay. Yvonne had all the intangibles he was looking for. In a strange way thanks to Lindsay's rejection Moishe found the right direction for real love.

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Alan J. Schwarz

Alan Schwarz loves life. He is the founder of JAMS Productions, a television production company based in Toronto . His passion is writing.