I don’t want it anymore
Don’t get me wrong, if I get it and it’s good, I enjoy it. But afterwards, I feel so empty. It’s over with. They go home. I go home. The end. I feel like the character in Looking for Mr. Goodbar (except I don’t die...and nothing gets brutal...and there is no drugs…eh...so maybe that isn’t a good example) What’s the point of having sex if there is nothing deeper behind it? Yes, sex feels incredible. Orgasms are great…but at what (emotional) price. If I have to hurt my heart…is sex worth it?
Some of my girlfriends think this is fine. “Have you some reliable partners, if you want to get yours, get it… and just do you”. What the hell is “doing me”? I know the 1960’s and 1970’s allowed me to have sexual liberation and freedom. And if I wanted to have a rotation of men, I could. But that empty feeling will still be there. That dull, hollow feeling will still permeate. My bed still will be cold. And nothing will change.
My emotions go from “fuck dudes...Imma just get mine” to “I can’t keep doing this. I feel sad”. I’m not sure where I am in all of this. Men can easily do this. They can separate their emotions and compartmentalize every woman and every encounter. Women can’t do that. We invest a lot of emotions into each and every person we meet. Unless you are Samantha Jones of Sex and the City, most women are not that brutally honest with themselves sexually. To some, penis is penis. For me…I want a connection.
I love sex. But at this moment in time, it’s time to take a “penis sabbatical” and just give sex a rest. Right now it’s about clearing my head and opening my heart…and not opening my legs. I’m certainly not a self-righteous person...but...I just feel that I deserve so much… I don't think I want to be "celibate"...I just don't want to be "selling myself short".