I haven’t blogged in a few days. I have been wanting to. I have just been trying to figure out how, best, to write this blog. I touched on it, a little, a while back. It was about sex, and missing it. I have found that there is no easy way to write this. So, I am just going to write what comes to mind, because, what kind of blog would this be, if I weren’t making my confessions?
Lately, I’ve found myself lusting after men. No, I am not acting on any of it. Dear God, not now. That would be ridiculous.
But, it’s true! I’ve thought about sex, and when I saw it in my mind, it wasn’t Mitch. I hated myself for it. Really. It’s been almost every day now. It’s insane!
I have my theories as to why it is happening. I was never without, when it came to sex, and intimacy. I never had to worry about any of that. I was SEVENTEEN when Mitch and I got together! I don’t KNOW what celibacy is! My body REJECTS it! Not really, but, sometimes, that is what it feels like.
So, one theory I have, is kind of sciency. Pheromones. Maybe, Mitch’s pheromones were so much made for me, that it drowned out all other pheromones, the whole time we were married? Is that possible? Who knows? I like to think that Mitch and I were so much made for each other, that I never caught a “whiff” of another man. And now, I don’t have him here, so I am being overwhelmed by all of these other pheromones. I don’t know. Sounds like, with the right wording, it could be legit. Right?
Well, I am embarrassed as could be. I feel terrible. But then I remember, I am 34. I am not 74, or 84. I am a very healthy, active, 34 year old woman. I will, most likely, have sex again. I can’t pretend that I will give that part of life up, because, let’s face it, sex is great. But, let’s be real. It’s going to be a while, before I even dive into that, again, no matter how much I tell my friends that I want to. I want to, but I DON’T want to, more. If that makes sense.
Control. I remind myself, that no matter how much I am wanting to jump some guy’s bones, I shouldn’t do it, because it’ll be a disastrous mess. I don’t have time for that. I have too much to take care of right now, so sex is not even really an option. And, even though my body is revolting, my brain and heart are not. I am not stupid enough to attempt a sexual encounter right now.
Could you just imagine? Oh My God! I would be that woman who cried after sex, and totally freaked some dude out! Funny as that would be, far in the future, it’s not worth it, now.
And, please, guy friends of mine, don’t worry. I am not, as Mitch would say, “damp” over any of you. (Did I really just type that?) Most of my dreams are about men I barely know. Which is good, I guess. right? I don’t think I could look someone in the eye, if I had some steamy dream about them. The dreams. I will bet the sex dreams are a way for me to release the built up stress of this widow’s life, in a healthy way. Again, I was sexual with the same man for 16.5 years. I never had to worry about “releasing stress” in a healthy manner.
But, these are my confessions. This is what I am dealing with. And, I am comfortable letting you all know. I don’t feel like the ones I love and care about, and the ones that know me, will make judgements. I feel like they know me, and know I won’t be whoring around town. 😉 They know I am smart. I care about my healing process. I care about all things that actually matter. I care about how Megan sees me healing.
This too shall pass?
One. Foot. In. Front. Of. The. Other.