Originally posted on Thu 9/4/2008, 5:08 AM
Current mood: understimulated
Category: Romance and Relationships
I think I've pin-pointed one of
the sources of my latest bout of emotional frustration. Before I go any further, I want
to warn you, this subject isn't for everyone. So, stop reading now if you're
easily offended by 'vulgarity'. My latest low level psychological
state-of-being, seems to be brought on by all the physical attention I'm
not enjoying at the moment. Truth be told, I can go very long
periods without it (though that isn't my chosen path). However,
periodically, there seems to be an almost tangible need for "it" that actually
makes me a little physically ill, almost like a heroin addict that goes too long
without 'a fix'. Unlike a heroin addict though, the desire can sometimes pass
without intervention…but not all the time. Many moons ago, right before I
decided to remove 'virgin' from my list of attributes, the first thing I did was
call my mother. I was in college at the time and had been sort of dating
this guy I liked okay, but not that much. I really didn't want him to be the
first but my young-and-ready, tender 20-Something year old body was screaming
for me to "take action-QUICKLY". Me and The Guy just kissed a
lot. When I was with him, I stopped shaving my legs and always wore leotards
(without the snap crotch), to keep myself from going there
with him. It worked too. I also told my mother all that. Since we'd never
discussed those types of things before, I didn't know how she'd react to my confession. After all, she was back home and I was 250 miles away living in an
apartment on campus, so I could really do whatever I wanted to do. Still, I
wanted to tell her. After a few seconds of stunned silence from her
(I don't think I took one breath
while telling her all that), she replies to me that she's grateful that I
thought enough of her to tell her something like that. She goes on to tell me
that I'm a grown woman that can do what she pleases and that if I felt that I
was ready, then I was. What?! No Anger?! (I didn't really expect anger from her-she's kind of a
hippie.) So, I breathe a sigh of
relief and go on…I told her of the guy I was dating at the time and how close
we'd come to 'doing it' but that I really wouldn't feel right about making him
the first (he didn't know I was a virgin). My mom told me that she knew
I'd choose wisely and she's very proud of the woman I'd become. She even cried a little.
Thankfully, that guy (that I'd only liked a little), was soon out of the
picture. He was presumably tired of kissing and frustrated by the fact that he
could never subtlety pull my shirt over my head. (Leotards Rock!)
In true romantic style
however, my first true love B, comes back into the picture shortly after
the other guy's departure. You've read the 'Ode to My Boy B' entry so you know the rest. That's kind of the reason for
this entry. I'm thinking that maybe, if I just 'put it all out there', a
great solution will just drop in my lap. (Like B did) Part of my
current dilemma is that I'm pretty sexually selective. Let's face it, anybody
(ugly or beautiful) can just go out and get that, it's the easiest commodity in
the world to obtain. But 'getting it' with someone you can truly connect with
(on any significant level), isn't quite as easy. I feel that the absence of sensual
and passionate attention is turning my brain into mush and making me a sexless
zombie aimlessly wandering the earth in search of a magnetically sensual
connection with someone. The right one. (for now) And honestly, I've
never mastered the fine art of masturbation. Believe me, I've tried many times
with only marginal success, at best. Pitiful, 'marginal success' with
masturbation leads to even more frustration-not one measure
of relief, not for me at least. I think for me personally, a huge
part of the feeling of sheer ecstasy, is being sexually and sensually in sync with another person. I realize that there are several spiffy gadgets on the
market dedicated to self-pleasure. But no matter how realistic the toy is, it's
useless to me if it isn't permanently attached to a man. I wished I'd figured
that out before I paid all that good money for the goodies in the 'toy box'
discreetly placed under my bed collecting dust bunnies. Ya know, I think a
dildo-burning ceremony might be in order here. A noble sacrificial bonfire that
will bring about a season of sensual pleasure beyond imagination and measure. A
season of delightful sensual fulfillment that compares to no other. Then again, maybe not. I just
hate the smell of burning rubber and plastic. I dunno, it's a head thing for me
I guess. (No pun intended) That's probably why masturbation has never been my
cup of tea. Though I must confess, I'm truly
jealous of women that have mastered it. They're probably able to
successfully separate their head from their body (sounds painful to me). But
my head is firmly affixed to my neck & shoulders; mind, body and
soul. I'd even contemplated going to one of those 'do-it-yourself' workshops but
I didn't think that was for me. Not because I'd be embarrassed or anything, it's
just that I don't think my problem/issue could really be resolved by simply and
skillfully touching the right area…there just has to be more to it than
that, hopefully MUCH more. I already know all my areas anyway, I'd prefer
somebody else find some new ones. On the bright side, my personal
short-comings in that particular area might actually be a blessing in disguise
because if I could take myself to the heights of sexual
ecstasy, I would probably never see another naked man for the rest of my life.
What a bummer that would be.
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