Okay. I admit it. I’m fucking horny.
For some reason, my horniological clock hadn’t been ticking in a while, but it’s back on tick-tocking away again.
I spent the day with some girlfriends and told them of my hornification plight. They both answered with the same question: “What’s the matter with your vibrator?”
I told them my vibrator(s) have been great, but I need to be kissed. I want to be held and pawed. I need someone to whisper dirty secrets and demands in my ear, to send me a filthy text. I want a guy to take my clothes off…
That’s the kind of performance my vibrator just can’t deliver. It’s one thing to roll over, Jill-off and shove your toys back in your drawer. It’s another to run your hands through a man’s hair when his head is between your legs. There’s just something about grabbing a man’s ass to push him further inside of you that pretend-time just doesn’t offer. You know I’m right.
I honestly don’t think I’m going to get laid on May 18th – the end of my year-long sabbatical from men.
I do plan on getting quite drunk. I’ve decided to go for a nice dinner with some of my close girlfriends in Toronto that night. After that, we’re going dancing and drinking.
I am also going to go to church that day. I don’t know why. I need to take some quiet time, talk to “God” or whoever-the-fuck, and reflect on my past year.
I’ve been thinking about where I was, one year ago today. I was sleeping with this guy who I knew was bad news for me. He didn’t live in this city, he was crazy, and treated me terribly. I hated myself for hanging in there but I kept on doing it. His own friends were telling me I could do better. I was depressed about it. I was furious with myself for investing so much time and heart into this ungrateful, undeserving weirdo – and so many before him.
Many of my exes have been wonderful and we’re friends to this day, but several of them have been complete douche-hats. I think my stats are pretty similar to most other women and men around my age – I’m not trying to be all, “take back the night” or anything.
I had this moment of luminous realization when I knew the only thing I could do was to quit dudes for a while. When one of my weaknesses/addictions starts to make my life unmanageable, I quit it for a bit until I can get a hold of myself. It’s why I’ve quit drinking and drugs for years at a time, or cut out sugar and cigarettes. There’s a time and a place for everything, and at times I need to be reminded of that. I just like everything that feels good all the time and I need to simmer down!
Nine more days and my project is over. If I don’t have sex that night, does it just go on until my boning trysts resume? How am I going to be normal when being intimate with dudes after all of this? Do I have to tell him what I’ve done/haven’t done this past year? Do I not mention it?
He might think I’m a freak show, or maybe value his privacy. He might not want me to write about it, even if I do disguise him with an alias. He may get turned off by the fact that my sex-life is literally an open book there will be little mystery about me. I feel doomed.
My ego is still pretty bruised from constant rejection in the past few years, and I’m scared at this point, I’ve got zero game or allure. This past year was safe for me because I had an excuse for being alone. Now I very well may go back to being alone because unrequited love can’t seem to evade me. Great.
I guess I’ll just wait and see what happens. As per uge.