There’s no hiding the facts about it. Yes, sex can be a beautiful thing. But what does it really mean to you?
At one point, sex meant true love. Or maybe that crazy high school love that you fall in. It’s one stage above middle school puppy love, but it’s that strong entrancing feeling where your crazy about someone and you just don’t know why. You’ve let the months passed, sure of keeping your legs closed, but opening your heart up the highschool sweetheart that you’ve grown to love. Prom night comes. Things happen. But it means something to you, right? There’s something about your first that you never quite forget. The first always remains in your mind as that constant memory of sexual mishaps and exploration. The one you thought you’d be with forever.
Sex can have that power over you, especially for emotional creatures like us women.
But then you get to college and you become a little…well, loose. Not too loose where you lose your dignity or allow your body count to get to something outrageously high. But you let your inhibitions go and begin to live for the moment, enjoying whomever’s hand lay in yours, whoever is giving you the most attention on the dance floor that night. You go home with cute strangers, let out drunken giggles—to wake up walking home in the dress and tights from the night before. Sex is beginning to lose its power but become more of a fun thing to do. Something good in the moment but rarely thought of afterwards.
But then you get to that point when you’re tired of all the fun and games.
And you look around you to see that the boys aren’t and there still riding on this “I don’t want to be in a relationship” front. You’re in a world where “I like you” begins to mean a totally different thing to opposite sexes and your extra wary of any glances or passes a man might be taking at you. Sex in the essence that you previously known it has become tiring and emotionally exhaustive in some sense. You’re ready to go back to how you first knew it. How you first met it. In its dainty innocence minus the dirty pleasure.
I think I’ve come to a place where sex for the fun of it is losing interest to me. It’s quite robbing of the self and just seems to be a cheap cop-out for my singledom. What I want is for sex to give me that pleasure that it once did, that comforting feeling of trust and love. I want sex to mean something to me again, not to just be a random bachelor’s privy and joy.
I don’t want to be anyone’s body count. I want to be someone’s one and only.
Some would call me crazy, but the monogamistic value of sex and love is something that I just can’t seem to get over. For me I think it has more appeal and beauty than wild positions with numerous men who really don’t care anything about you except for what’s in your nether-regions. Our society has gased us up, riding casual sex of its taboos and finding means to justify it. Maybe casual sex works for you, but it digs into my morality and just doesn’t give me the same pleasure as it should. I’ve had my time for fun and games. I’m ready for my love story to begin. Sex is something that is meant to be intimate and make you vulnerable. Offering it around like hot-sex on a platter, like my Tribe brothers would say, makes me feel lesser than myself and makes me see sex as just another thing. But it can have true power and bring that good feeling to a relationship that you always knew existed. Of course, when the time is right.
It’s not like a hug. It’s not like a kiss.
It’s something more.
And I hope there’s a man out there who truly values that as much as I do.