"Let's be honest: sex is the most amazing thing in the world... until it becomes routine and you feel like you're being held captive for about 15 minutes every night, as soon as he turns off the PlayStation and supposedly "comes for a cuddle."
You want fire, you want sensation, you want passion, you want that energy that makes you tremble before he touches you. And him? He seems to be following the instructions of some old manual – always the same, three kisses to the left, two wandering caresses to the right and then that same downward movement that he calls “the job done.”
Have you tried talking to him, you ask? Yes! And not once or twice. One night when he was eating chips on the couch (yes, I know), I told him that I felt like an extra in our bed. I tried to be calm, and even mentioned a scene from a French movie that had stuck in my mind. “I was curious…”, I said. He shook his head and snapped, “Those are for movies, my dear, not for home.”
Yes, I'm not an idiot. We made those movies a reality once. One night, late, after a dinner with a group of friends, we had sex in the car, in the empty parking lot behind a shopping mall here in the capital. The windows fogged up, the car moved at our pace and my heart was beating like in a movie scene. Even today, it's the only adventure we have and if I didn't mention it from time to time to encourage her a little, she would have forgotten about it in time.
Now I feel like a device. Like something that turns on, is used, and turns off. I tell him I want more contact, more involvement, more... life. He turns his head away and says, "Don't make a fuss. Why do you need so much special sex all at once?"
The last time I told him I wasn't emotionally satisfied, he said, "We're not on our honeymoon anymore." And here you start to wonder, "Am I the one asking too much? Maybe I should be content to reach an orgasm, even if it's with my eyes closed and my imagination running?"
No girl. An orgasm is just a bodily reaction, not proof that the sex was good. Especially when you feel invisible, heartless, hopeless. When he acts like he's filling out a form, and not like he's touching you, the person he says he loves, I don't think I'm the one being unreasonable here.
Because the problem here isn't just sex. It's the fact that he doesn't want to listen to me, to ask, to find out what turns me on, what hurt me at first, angered me then, and opened my eyes now, finally. He just doesn't care. And that has turned into a huge lack of respect now. A lack of effort to share something beautiful, mutual, that inspires and brings us closer.
So here's the question, girl. Should you accept bread and butter when you're being served sushi? No. Because good sex is about inclusion. It's about mutual attraction. It's about making you feel alive, not used.
If he doesn't listen to me now, in a year of dating, will it change when we have children? When we're tired of the routine of life? Or will I be forced to forever return to the role of "the one who accepts whatever is served"?
I'm thinking better of leaving now. Because sex without a soul is probably worse than its absence. And sleeping with him after a dry "fast", which for him is a habit and for me a punishment... better to leave it for my retirement years, or NEVER! I need life. For feeling. For someone who loves me without a manual and without a schedule.
"And for the one who doesn't understand this? Goodbye and have a safe journey, boy."
Note: The article has been adapted by the editors for editorial purposes and clarity.
Copyright Anabel.al / Reprinting without permission of the editorial staff is prohibited.
