Wild love
Now that I'm a bachelor on the prowl (hahahahaha), this theme seems to be popping up a lot in my brain. I notice it everywhere because it is everywhere. People have sex. If you're in a relationship, you're having sex. Or you're 90 years old and not having sex and wishing you were having sex. But you probably don't call it "having sex" when you're 90 years old. You call it "giving her the time" or the more modern parlance of "gettin' all up in that." Haha, no. Just ... no.
Since it's been forever since I've had sex, it's something I now contemplate as an idea or a concept instead of something I can go home and actually take part in. It allows me to take it apart and look at it. This is where thinking about sex starts to make sense. See, I was doing it all wrong.
For starters, sex was probably the best thing about my 20-year relationship that ended in divorce. It was the last thing to go. I knew once I stopped having sex it would be officially over. But what did sex mean to me?
Sex was an expression of my feelings. Sometimes it was tender and loving; sometimes it was fast and brutal. Sometimes, when it was over, she would ask me, "Do you hate me?" Unfortunately, the answer was yes. See? Doing it wrong.
Often, I used sex to deal with stress. It was just nice to come home and bang one out. When circumstances at work or whatever got the better of me, I was physically unable to have sex. There was a carryover there. Sex was a tool to fix my mood.
I don't have crazy sex. I'm not that guy. I just like sex. I like what a lot of people say is boring, vanilla sex. It's two people making time for each other, making room in a crowded day for someone they love. It's also an outpouring of souls, a sharing of bodies, a question that asks, "Are we okay?" and the answer, "Yes. We're so okay, I want to nail you to the wall with my ... yeah."
After not having sex for more than a year, it's becoming easy to see life without sex. It's also easy to see it redefined without that other person. It's easy to see how it was used against me. I may never have sex again. I've redefined what sex means to me so much, this is probably what will happen. I have to be in love with the woman I have sex with. It doesn't make sense to me otherwise. In fact, I'm pretty sure my manhood won't even function without love. I realize I've painted myself into a corner. But, if love is in that corner, I'm okay with that. If the one I love is there, I need nothing else.
I don't know what sex is going to look like for me in the future. I think I have a long time before I can actually think about that in all seriousness. I do know it won't look like what it looked like in the past. I'll be older. I won't want to have sex every day. I do know it will be special because the person I make love to I will actually be in love with. Boring, vanilla sex will be mindblowing simply because I love her. I won't want to be in any other woman's arms. My mind won't be wandering to any other pasture. I'll be in the moment and focused on her. I won't need to get drunk to have sex. I won't need her to pin me to the bed because I don't want to be there. I will always want to be there. She'll be my one and only.
It all sounds like fairytale stuff, but it's just a man in love with a woman. I won't need to get fancy or try anything crazy. Just being with her will be thrilling.
It's fun to contemplate what a healthy sex life with a woman I love will look like. There won't be an undercurrent of frustration or hate. There won't be me trying to perform yet again when I don't want to and drunk again because that's the only way I can have sex without thinking.
When I think about her, she's the only one I want. Even though she's faded away, she's still the one I want. Is that going to change tomorrow or next year or five years from now? She makes sense to me in every way. It's like she's woven into the fabric of my neurons, into my very tissue. Every other woman is a disappointment. I know she can't be mine. I know my future looks like a whole lot of aching and hurting for her and never having her. If that's the only way I can have her, I'll take it. She's too amazing to just let go. She's too amazing to have nothing at all. I may never taste her love again, but if she's the last love I have, I'll be content with that.
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