A very good friend of mine suggested I should return to celibacy. She said that she is afraid that I may get hurt again and that I need emotional love, not just the physical act of sex. I told her that I was touched by what she said but no one is offering emotional love at the moment and that I get so lonely like Janet Jackson.
It has been nearly 2 years since I felt the throes of passion and being in that state again feels wonderful. In my heart of hearts, I know that she made some valid points but I’m at the crossroads of desire and want to feel close to someone again. I want to be kissed and touched. When Soothed runs his fingers along my naked body, I can feel curves that I never knew I had. It makes me feel womanly.
And the intensity of sex is too hard to ignore now, especially the orgasms. But yet and still, a part of me wonders if I made the transition to sex too soon. Will I get my feelings hurt again?
When I was celibate, I was in certain situations where I could have had sex but didn’t. I was asked out on dates but declined in order to avoid temptation. What made our situation so different? I thought long and hard about this and had a Oprah “Aha!” moment; Soothed offered the boyfriend experience. Our interactions were more personal and intimate than the traditional casual relationship.
The majority of my other casual relationships were mainly a “fuck and dash” situation. There was no hanging out after sex. There were no in-depth conversations. There weren’t intense passionate moments. There weren’t kisses and touches outside of the sexual endeavors. There weren’t moments where I could let my hair down and be my natural goofy self. Soothed is like a boyfriend that I don’t have! We hang out hours at a time, laugh at the tops of our lungs, have every conversation imaginable, cuddle, kiss, touch, and sing (he does most of it because I sound like a strangled cat). And the sex is amazing!
Is sex with Soothed something that I can handle in the long run? He was the first man who I had sex with since giving celibacy the heave-ho. A part of me feels that giving him my celibacy bonded me to him somehow. And since losing my virginity wasn’t consensual, I considered my celibacy journey as my second-generation virginity.
Do I want him to be my boyfriend? Is that why I always got jealous when he used to bring other women home? Is that why when he’s not home, I sometimes wonder where he could be? Is it why I ask him from time to time why a good guy like him is still single?
Perhaps I just like the idea of him being my boyfriend. And even if I had a tiny fraction of hope, I would never ask him to be mine. That screams desperation and opens up the possibility of rejection. I’ve learned my lesson from The One Who Didn’t Feel the Same. I refuse to make something out of nothing or pine for someone only to get heartbroken. I don’t think that I can handle another heartbreak.