We’ve all heard it. The Polyamory-ites love to tout “Love is infinite.” Then of course we also hear, Love may be infinite, but time is not. Thus the poly culture phenomenon, Google Calendar, which has become some sort of social poly icon at this point.
“We’re sharing Google calendars now”, which roughly translates to we are poly-committed. Or poly-vested. Or poly-something. (I love how you can just put poly in front of any word and make it kind of poly- relevant. But that’s not really what I want to poly-write about.
I want to write about SEX. Sex, desire for sex, energy for sex, time for sex, sex drive, sexual creativity…All these things are absolutely NOT infinite. (Sorry, but they aren’t.)
I love sex with Special Man Friend, and right now he is pretty much my only sexual partner. It’s not that I’m not open to other partners, it just hasn’t happened. I’m particular, I’m discriminating, I’m picky. Maybe I’m too guarded, maybe my marriage left me with trust issues. I suppose the why of the matter is irrelevant, this is who I am, today. And right now I’m worried that my sex with him will be affected by his other relationships, or maybe even has already has been affected.
I feel like I need to qualify things, by saying that I’m coming out of a deep depression, my stress level has been through the roof at work, I’m exhausted, and I have grief issues surrounding my exhusbands suicide that are slowly resolving. But still. This is about my fear.
I fear that I am not as sexually interesting as his new girlfriend. I used to BE the new girlfriend. Now I’m the old girlfriend. And I kind of feel like I’ll get lost somewhere in the nebulous space between wife and new girlfriend. So… maybe she’s getting the sex that I used to have. Hours and hours of ridiculous, hot, sex. If he’s spread even thinner, doesn’t my slice of sex pie get smaller? I don’t want a smaller piece of sex pie! I want ALL the sex pie I can eat. All of it. Sex pie is my favorite.
Of course, there are a million different pies out there that I could fill up on. (I really like this metaphor.) But I know I like this specific pie and I could eat it all day. I’m a picky eater. I do want to find new and delicious sex pies, but I’m simultaneously afraid to try something new that might taste horrible.
Alright, done with that metaphor. Sex pie. I love it.
The last time I saw SMF we had a fantastic, instant-combustion quickie that left me dizzy. It was exactly what I needed.
Except that I still need more. Curse my picky tastebuds.