Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Hot, Heavy, and Under Pressure.
Warning: I am about to talk about sex. If you do not want to read, that’s fine with me.
So I am a virgin. And sometimes I wish I would have just had sex with Curtis back in the day so I could just get rid of the stigma of being a virgin, but that didn’t happen so here I am. Well now, I have the opportunity to have sex, yet I something keeps me from going all the way.
The guy I am seeing now is more than willing to have sex, yet whenever we get really close to doing anything that hot and heavy, I say, “I don’t think I’m ready yet.” Then he in response says, “Yeah, I need to go to bed.” I am out of his apartment within three minutes of my statement (and you know I was thrown out quickly when I have to hide my erection while walking to my truck). I don’t know why I am so reluctant but whenever I think about having sex, well I get freaked out and a list of things I need to happen before I go all the way pops up into my mind.
If I am going to have sex, I do not want to do anything on a couch… especially when there is a bed two doors away. Also, I don’t necessarily want to have sex during a scary movie that features a bald, toad licking mutilator. I would like to actually know when the last time my sexual partner had sex (which means anything… you achieved orgasm with somebody else, let me know about it), and I would probably like a clean bill of health from a licensed serologist.
I guess the biggest thing is that I am not comfortable with my body. I am so uncomfortable with my body that just having somebody touch me (anywhere) makes me cringe. I automatically panic and think about how fat I used to be and the possibility that I am still that fat. I can’t breathe, I feel like I am about to pass out, and I want to crawl under a rock and die. I know this is due to my Body Dysmorphic Disorder (which that is an actual diagnosis… not my hypochondria speaking), and so I probably want to have sex with somebody that I don’t think will laugh at me if something isn’t perfect… Dear God, I will never have sex again if during my first time I am laughed at in any other way but playful.
I know I am seeing the wrong guy for me. He does drugs, he possibly is talking to other guys and doing the same things with them as he is with me, he kicks me out of his apartment when I say I’m not comfortable doing certain things, and he doesn’t believe in love or romance. Not that I am this big lovey-dovey guy… but I do believe that romance exists, and I want it. Maybe I’m asking too much to find a guy who is romantic and attractive.
I know that I should just say, “I think we have too physical of a relationship,” or, “Maybe we should talk about this before it happens,” but I just can’t seem to do it. I know that the moment that I say anything, I will be immediately ushered out from his basement apartment and out into the cold. And I like knowing that somebody is attracted to me. Nothing sucks worse than just floating about for two years without anybody hitting on you, giving a flirt, or flashing a passing wink… and that was my first two years at BYU. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I don’t really know who reads my blog, but those that read my blog and actually know me, I would really like your opinions. Although I already know exactly what will be said, but maybe getting a ton of disapproving messages will force me to actually do the right thing.
So I am a virgin. And sometimes I wish I would have just had sex with Curtis back in the day so I could just get rid of the stigma of being a virgin, but that didn’t happen so here I am. Well now, I have the opportunity to have sex, yet I something keeps me from going all the way.
The guy I am seeing now is more than willing to have sex, yet whenever we get really close to doing anything that hot and heavy, I say, “I don’t think I’m ready yet.” Then he in response says, “Yeah, I need to go to bed.” I am out of his apartment within three minutes of my statement (and you know I was thrown out quickly when I have to hide my erection while walking to my truck). I don’t know why I am so reluctant but whenever I think about having sex, well I get freaked out and a list of things I need to happen before I go all the way pops up into my mind.
If I am going to have sex, I do not want to do anything on a couch… especially when there is a bed two doors away. Also, I don’t necessarily want to have sex during a scary movie that features a bald, toad licking mutilator. I would like to actually know when the last time my sexual partner had sex (which means anything… you achieved orgasm with somebody else, let me know about it), and I would probably like a clean bill of health from a licensed serologist.
I guess the biggest thing is that I am not comfortable with my body. I am so uncomfortable with my body that just having somebody touch me (anywhere) makes me cringe. I automatically panic and think about how fat I used to be and the possibility that I am still that fat. I can’t breathe, I feel like I am about to pass out, and I want to crawl under a rock and die. I know this is due to my Body Dysmorphic Disorder (which that is an actual diagnosis… not my hypochondria speaking), and so I probably want to have sex with somebody that I don’t think will laugh at me if something isn’t perfect… Dear God, I will never have sex again if during my first time I am laughed at in any other way but playful.
I know I am seeing the wrong guy for me. He does drugs, he possibly is talking to other guys and doing the same things with them as he is with me, he kicks me out of his apartment when I say I’m not comfortable doing certain things, and he doesn’t believe in love or romance. Not that I am this big lovey-dovey guy… but I do believe that romance exists, and I want it. Maybe I’m asking too much to find a guy who is romantic and attractive.
I know that I should just say, “I think we have too physical of a relationship,” or, “Maybe we should talk about this before it happens,” but I just can’t seem to do it. I know that the moment that I say anything, I will be immediately ushered out from his basement apartment and out into the cold. And I like knowing that somebody is attracted to me. Nothing sucks worse than just floating about for two years without anybody hitting on you, giving a flirt, or flashing a passing wink… and that was my first two years at BYU. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I don’t really know who reads my blog, but those that read my blog and actually know me, I would really like your opinions. Although I already know exactly what will be said, but maybe getting a ton of disapproving messages will force me to actually do the right thing.