Going for the Gold

going for the gold medal

Well I’ve officially passed 3 months. That’s right, the last time I had sex was back in August with Mr. Booty Call while I was exhausted and off guard. Sure, there have been plenty of opportunities. I’ve even slept in the bed of a few of them, but not one of them got even close to ripping off all my clothes and well…you know.


It’s probably true

So how do I feel now you ask? I’ve had my moments. I got through the entire first month by whipping out my vibrator every few days. But once you get over the hump (lame pun intended), life is good. I am more productive than I’ve been in a really long time. I have no drama of waiting for texts, wondering when the next time I’ll get laid is, or trying to schedule dates and getting stressed out when things don’t go as planned. No more fear of rejection because I just don’t care. No more dealing with douchebags because I’m not tempted by them at all. Now I can see crystal clear when a douchebag comes sniffing. If I’m not treated right, I don’t care because I’m not in a desperation of getting laid. I just don’t care and it feels great.

no sex replaced with food funny

In other words…

In my worst moments, I feel lonely and crave the warmth of another human being. I want to cuddle with someone in bed, feel the touch of someone else. Then I start fantasizing about one night with a douchebag. Just one night, I tell myself. Then I think about this marathon I have been running and how giving that all up would never be worth it for a douchebag…maybe ever again. The feeling fades the next day and I feel a renewed strength for not caving.

you are a douchebag

I see douchebags now

In other moments, I feel pathetic and an odd feeling of shame for not having sex in so long. I mean, this is what people everywhere crave. This is what fuels human existence and energy. This too, quickly fades when I realize that I am not trading in my standards for the equivalent of peer pressure.

This time, not only am I running this race for real, I am going for the Gold. The next time I have sex, I want to feel something real. I want a connection, a spark, and I want to be swept off my feet. There are no substitutes for this feeling, and therefore no temptations. Not anymore. This time it’s for real.

fabio romance novel

Yep, this is what the Gold looks like

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