The Intimacy of Sex

I think most would agree that sex isn’t just sex when you love the person you’re with.  I figured I should write about this and hopefully, gain a clear conscience in the process.  This topic keeps popping back into my head and I discussed in therapy last week and I still don’t feel like it’s resolved.  One of the issues I have with my ex is that she keeps telling me that sex is just sex so I really shouldn’t care about who she sleeps with.  The problem is I do.  Not because of the actual act per se, but because of WHO SHE IS and how she fits into my life.  Why would I want the woman that I love, kissing, sucking and fucking someone else, male or female?  Having those intimate moments of total bliss–smiling and laughing and enjoying someone else?  It would be different if it were a mutual decision such as if we had agreement with having an open relationship.  It’s not the case and just because she is my ex, doesn’t mean all of these feelings are going away.  I told her yesterday that we have never really broken up.  Out of the past year, we have only went a month or two without speaking to one another completely.  We don’t have ground rules or boundaries and she tends to make them up as she goes along and I follow whatever guidelines I’m given, just so I can have a piece of her somehow.  It’s the reason I feel pathetic most days, happy and sad and every other emotion in between.  I can’t picture life without her or with her knowing that she has been with other people, enjoyed them sexually and it really doesn’t matter to me if I’m the best or not.  That is beside the point.  When I have slept with other women, and they touched me in a way or did something that would remind me of Veronica, it ruined the moment for me.  I could never interlock fingers or be anything like I was with Veronica with other women, because it would freak me out.  I didn’t/doesn’t feel natural and I just shut down.  Before Veronica, of course, I could have emotionless sex, but sex isn’t better than love making.  That is something that I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older.  I would much rather have the same type of sex with someone over the course of some years than have mediocre to amazing sex with someone I don’t love at all.  I’m sure that most people don’t share this sentiment, including, maybe Veronica, but I can’t help how I feel.  Even though I wish I could bottle up these stupid emotions and throw them in the river because they don’t make sense.  Breaking up and making up and breaking up again and then moving on is an unfortunate part of life that most of us has to go through.  This isn’t my first time down this road and it probably won’t be the last, but I guess when I believe that I’ve found my soul mate, it must really change things. I just really hate being on the outside looking in and actually not wanting to go in or taste the fruit on the outside of the store.  It seems I’d much rather sit here and think about who she is fucking and if she is enjoying it and why and what that must really mean for me and her feelings for me long term.  sigh.  I’m just coming close to the end of my rope; seemingly, nothing left to hang myself with.

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3 responses to “The Intimacy of Sex

  1. I don’t “like” this post, but I applaud the depth of feeling and candour with which you express yourself. Your ex sounds as though she is best left to her current capacity in your life, that which is firmly ensconced in the past tense. Find someone who equals you in heart and integrity; anything less is simply not good enough. Okay? Hugs from a stranger.

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