Sex and The Boy #2

Now I know what's the missing piece. It's LOV.. E. #selfquote

Have you ever felt a difficulty to make peace with yourself?


No, this is not about the self-denial that we see so often in PLU's lives. This is about the things you have done, and you're not so proud about it, so you try to give yourself an excuse. You feel really really bad about it that you try to explain what's really happening, for it was good. Somehow you're kind of regretting it, but it's not regret, because you actually enjoyed it. And by the end of the day, you intent to let it happen again. 

Yes, I'm talking about guilty pleasure. You know it's wrong, you know it's low, but we all know that all thing which is supposedly to be forbidden is very very sweet we get addicted. Everybody has it, so what's the big deal here? I am pretty much amazed that I find myself trying to come out with any logical explanation to make it tolerable and acceptable. To make everything okay, in the mere reason so that I could finally stop despise myself. And you already read it in the part one.


Like, what's forbidden about the sex? What's wrong with wanting sex? If it is wrong and forbidden then I am all wrong and forbidden since the beginning of time, right? Er...see? Here I go again. All that stuff. All that self-defense reasoning. And why am I beating myself this hard to explain something normal? Gee. Playing saint is really getting old, Ed. 

Sex is supposed to be liberating, right? It frees you from the urge, it gives you this particular sensation, and it is not wrong to want it again and again, right? To the top of that, isn't it supposed to be fun? I mean, the reason why sex is so addicting is because it's so fun, isn't it?
The moment where you can forget about the rest of the world?
The moment when you could just lie down, thinking about nothing, except the dopamine, the adrenaline, and any other sensation?
The moment where it's just you and him, and nothing else matters?


And right there, at the moment where I finally accepted the fact, surrendered myself to the guilty pleasure, at that exact time too I lost my appetite.


Yes.


A cute guy was holding you so tight, kissing you, and asking you how to serve you in the best way. Nice body, although not-all muscular, but still okay. Gentle attitude. Everything a guy like me could really imagine. And he was standing naked, standing so true that you didn't want to blink your eyes for this fear that he's going to disappear.
But something's off. There's this missing piece somewhere, and when you think that you have found it, you noticed that the pieces just did not fit anymore. So instead of the expected great sex, it went so-so. The fireworks just cooled off so easily that it didn't even leave any mark in the sky.


Was it because of the great expectation - meaning, the more you expect it to be great, the more it sucks?
Then where do you really draw the line; between a really good sex and a really big SLUT? How much sex could one have before people start labelling him a BIATCH? Or are we supposed to just not care, and go on with our lives, as sex is supposed to be private and limited to our bed-room only - or in some case, the car, the sofa, the garden, the bath-room, and so on? Even so, is it wrong to be a really GOOD slut when we're having sex?


So we picked up our clothes, and I looked at him, again. Trying to get a better look on his image. Still my type. Still the guy from my dream. As this empty feeling created a bigger and bigger hole in my chest, I smiled at him, with no intention to ever seeing him again. We said casual goodbye, and I tried to remember again what it was like at the first time I started doing no-string-attached-sex.


I was in a very dark place, trying to forget someone from the past by escaping into strangers' arms. Trying to get rid of his image, and trying to bargain my lonely nights just so it could be a little more bear-able. But he is just a past, now. I don't need to get under some guys to get over him anymore..


And as the sky was getting darker, I knew I had to move on.
I knew that I needed to have a better self-esteem.
I knew it's time to make peace with myself, and to embrace more of myself.
I knew, I needed to get a good night sleep.
There'd be a fight going on, very soon.