Love and Sex

Remember my vow not to have sex anymore? (See April 7th post, "Sex is the root of all EVIL!") Well, I couldn't stick it out. Figures.

I was going through withdrawal and I had to have it. So I went to Old (un)Faithful to get my fix. But for some reason, I wasn't satisfied this time and I couldn't understand why.

He's a great lay usually, but I just wasn't feeling it for some reason. At first I thought I had lost my orgasm (one of those myths floating around out there about people who have too much sex), but further experimentation disproved that theory. After much contemplation, I figured it out.

For me, sex isn't enjoyable. I prefer lovemaking. What I had with my ex the other day was just sex. Whenever I am desperate enough to have sex with him, I emotionally shut down because it makes me care less about him or what he does. But what I sacrafice when I do that, is the passion of lovemaking. I don't kiss him, I don't caress him--there's no emotional connection. And as a result, I don't come.

I thought I was abnormal for not being able to have an orgasm if I wasn't in love with the person, but I think it makes sense. Love can and should be poured into many vessels: in words, in tender gestures, in empathy and consideration, suffused with the right kind of silence or bursting with the joy of momentary unity. Love is the art of merging the distinct and still maintaining the distinction. What better way of applying this principle than sex? What is the orgasm of a loving couple if not a moment of fusion, individually experienced?

So, I think love and sex do go together. Not to say you can't have sex without love. People do it everyday. But I would argue, that the sexual enjoyment derived from emotional and spiritual union is more gratifying than that derived from a mere sex fest.