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Desire

I remember right after AB and I broke up and I started getting back into journaling in a big way. I wrote this weird entry about being afraid of myself, of my desires, of my desire hurting someone. It was so raw and honest and bizarre.

Even as I was writing it I couldn’t figure out where those feeling had come from. It was like lava bubbling up from inside my core.

It’s weird how in touch I was with those feelings. Considering how out of touch I generally am with myself. In every sense of the word.

But it’s true. I am terrified of my desires. Terrified of my sexual appetite. Terrified of losing control. I feel like losing control means losing myself. That losing myself in a moment, letting go, really feeling… well, really feeling anything. Is horrifying.

That’s why I think I try to avoid foreplay, and real emotional connections, and giving in to my desires. It’s why I pride myself on my self-control. It’s why I never lose my head and let go. And it’s also very likely why sex is generally so awful for me.

It’s why I don’t let men “make love” to me. It’s why I have never had gentle, passionate sex. It’s why I’ve never had intense, intimate sex. It’s why I don’t like kissing during sex. And why I’ll freak out if someone uses the word “love” in bed with me.

I’ve always been freaked out by intimacy. Fucking is safer. Fucking won’t hurt my feelings. I’ve never let someone get close to me.

My pleasure is scary. It feels like some vast, deep quarry. A place I rarely ever even think about, let alone venture into.

Quarries are the scariest thing I can think of. They scare the shit out of me. They are so dark and deep. Full of who knows what creatures. I think about heavy machinery rusting and rotting at the bottom. Giant underwater scaffolds covered in algae. Green tendrils of it waving in the darkness. And I am horrified by it.

Despite all that, I do very much enjoy sex. I have orgasms. Both with myself and with others. But I rarely feel completely satisfied. I always, always feel something is missing. Something I am too afraid to look for.

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