The more I grow, the less I know

It’s time for some stream of consciousness. So strap yourselves in if you’d like to join me on this brief ride….

I’ve had a series of conversations with a friend that have left me wondering if I need to stop dating in order to eventually get a successful relationship. On one hand, can’t win the lotto if you don’t buy a ticket, right? But on the other, maybe something about me is not ready. Maybe I’m grasping at dicks like straws. Could I be setting myself up for failure? Could I be dooming a future relationship or happiness because of mistakes I’m making now? The problem is not that I’m sleeping with too many guys I don’t love. The problem is that I fall in love too quickly. When there’s a cute boy there, our eyes inches from each other, our lips locked, I’m in love. Part of me is already thinking, “don’t get too attached,” sure, but another part is falling hard.

I don’t need the sex. I can live without that. In fact, half the time I prefer my own hand. I love them kissing me, I love their hands over every inch of my body, I love exploring every inch of them. Having things done can feel amazing. But at the end of the day, it’s usually my own hand that makes me finally ejaculate. Frankly that’s the least important part of the sex act, but it’s the one which so many people focus on. Yeah, it might be a bit more important if you’re trying to get knocked up, but really how often are people actually trying to get pregnant? Even if a person wants children, they maybe want two or three. Yet people have sex on a weekly or daily basis. Go too long, and you’re in a dry spell and “need to get laid”. You’re seen as an anomaly. I masturbate an average of twice a day, frequently more. I don’t need sex. I need intimacy.

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