February 20, 2009

Sex, dating, sex, love, sex. Sex.

You know, you spend so much time as a kid and an adolescent being curious about sex: sneaking peeks at pictures and movies associated with it, gathering sketchy information from others kids and their older siblings. You look forward to the day that you will finally know what it's all about.

I accidentally had an orgasm when I was nine during an innocuous situation, and I spent years trying to figure out how to make it happen again.

In junior high and high school, my friends and I speculated about it and eagerly shared experiences when one of us had done anything remotely related to it (i.e., "he kind of stuck his tongue in my mouth and moved it around").

There was the momentous night when I lost my virginity in October of 1992. It was momentous only because of its symbolism; it certainly didn't FEEL momentous physically. In fact, it kind of sucked. And I will always associate Paula Abdul's "Forever Your Girl" with awkward fumbling and pain.

Then there came sex with someone I loved with all of my being and it was changed forever.

It seems like once you get to the magical place called adulthood, you should finally be able to think about something else. This is not true. There are long dry spells, and ohmyfuckinggod they BLOW! (or not, as the case may be...)

If I just wanted to have sex with SOMEbody, that would be quite easy. Unfortunately, I don't work that way. I'm pretty jealous of those that do. I've tried, and I hated myself and the empty way it made me feel. I'm not saying I want to marry the guy tomorrow, I would just like to actually care about him.

There is the issue that I'm still learning about this whole dating business. It seems like after 40-50 of them, I should be getting better. I feel like astoundingly little progress has been made on my part. I hear lots of theories and advice: play hard to get, be honest and up front when you like someone, blah blah blah. I never paid much attention to those things, and I know myself well enough by well to know that being a way that is not me is definitely not going to work.


Sex. Sex, sex, sex. *sigh*

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