I hate how I have nobody to talk to comfortably about this, so I’m just gonna put this out here real quick. Sorry, followers, if this is TMI Turkey-status for you, but hey, isn’t this what blogs are for?
Sex. I don’t know what it means to the rest of you, but for as long as I can remember, I’ve always considered sex to be somewhat of a sacred act, a beautiful art form born out of pure desire and passion on so many different levels, more than the human mind or heart can even begin to comprehend. We all have different reasons for engaging in it - whether it be instant gratification, true love, a means of closure, or perhaps just ennui - but whatever the reason may be, it’s undeniable that on a grander scale, sexual intercourse has simply lost its meaning.
Who am I to be talking about sex like I’m oh-so-wise? Truth is, I’m nobody. Just another regular guy, nothing extraordinary about me. I don’t know much, and there’s so much that I’m still unsure about, but I am sure about one thing: in those brief, blissful moments that were few and far between, I deeply, wholly, and truly did devote every last ounce of passion and love in my body to you, from the very first kiss to the very last sweatdrop.
And it wasn’t until the other night that I finally realized something: I miss it so much. Having someone to pursue, to dedicate myself to, to give all that I have to, through all the pain and the tears, through thick and thin and to the ends of the universe; that’s what makes life worth living.
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