This post falls under the category of "TMI". But it's been on my mind lately, so I'm gonna write about it. You've been warned.

At the end of this month--assuming I can hold out that long--I will celebrate my 2 year anniversary of self-imposed celibacy. This is no small feat. I love sex. I'm good at it. I haven't had a lot of partners, but I've had a lot of sex. Part of that is due to the fact that I was in two serious relationships that lasted almost 5 years combined.

I made the decision to stop when Foxy Boy moved back home. We'd had an on-again/off-again relationship that spanned nearly 7 years. We cared about each other very much, but he wasn't someone I could see myself with long term. He was never interested in marriage, and I couldn't really see myself married to him anyway. However, of the few guys I've slept with, he's the one with whom I was most sexually compatible. We both have big appetites.

But we weren't good for each other in many ways. I don't know how to explain it, but sometimes when we were on-again, it was dark. Like, there wasn't any emotion behind it. We were just fucking. That's not a place I want to visit again. I remember the first time we slept together after J and I broke up. I didn't want to be with Foxy Boy, I wanted to be with J. But he was house sitting and I went over there and there was a hot tub and alcohol and I was lonely. I cried quietly when we started. He didn't know. Then I shut down. I left the next morning feeling empty. That afternoon I went back to the house. We started sleeping together regularly after that, but for a while it was a hollow act. I just didn't care.

I remember one of the last nights we were together. He thought I was asleep and he whispered "I love you." That's kind of a big deal for this guy. He doesn't exactly say that a lot. So, it's not like there was nothing there. He was one of my best friends. We hung out quite a bit. I miss him terribly. But when he left in February of 2008, I decided that I would not have sex again unless I was in a serious relationship. Part of it is emotional, and part of it is my number. I remember the day I went from 5 to 6. I had to use two hands to count the number of guys I'd slept with. I felt completely slutty. So, I decided I wouldn't do more than 10. There was no way I would resort to my feet to keep tally. Some people think I'm dumb for thinking that and number doesn't really matter. Well, that's just the way I think.

Casually dating does not equal serious relationship. I don't want to sleep with every guy I date. However, when you reach a certain age, sex is expected. Pretty much immediately. There were times I had to turn guys down in the middle of a make out session. It shocked me how nonchalant their attitudes were. Well, your top is off, so let me grab a condom. Slow down there, buddy. Sorry, but this is not gonna happen. I was on the verge a couple of times, and would have caved had circumstances been different. Will and I hung out for a few weeks. We'd been friends prior, and he knew about my No Sex Policy. Then we dated for a bit. Things got pretty intense, and he was the one to stop it from going further. I was the one who kept pushing the boundaries. He was basically like, this was your idea and I'm going to honor that. It was frustrating in the moment, but the next day I was always thankful that he'd stopped.

Then there was Character Workshop Crush. The more we hooked up, the closer we got. And he certainly wasn't going to stop. I called him on my birthday last year. Birthday sex doesn't count, right? He was working and had to close that night. Another time I gave him a ride home b/c he was super drunk. He asked me to come over on our walk to my car. Dude was wasted, so although I said yes to avoid confrontation, I had no intention of going up. When we pulled up to his place, I didn't even look for a parking spot. He turned to me and said maybe this wasn't a good idea. I'm pretty sure he threw up as soon as he got inside.

There were a couple others, but those weren't hard to say no to. I didn't really know the guys. They were just random hook ups. And I didn't want to sleep with someone who was willing to sleep with basically a total stranger. Have some respect for yourself, said the girl with no clothes.

Anyway, there's been a new kink in my determination. There's a guy in Austin on whom I had a harmless crush, so I flirted thinking he would have no interest. I'm 8 years his senior. He's a kid. With no interest of having a relationship. We're on the same page with that one. If he was 30 and I was 38, that's a different story. But people in their early twenties should just enjoy life and not be too tied down. In my humble opinion. So, we got together a few times back around December. But then he was out of town and I was out of town and then injured, so I hadn't seen him for a while. We saw each other in passing, but last night was the first time we'd hung out in a social setting.

One of the reasons I don't drink that much is because I know I will throw my decision out the door. I don't want to have meaningless things in my life. And sleeping with a guy I have no intention of being in a relationship with is meaningless. I am more than my id. I can control my actions. It is a spiritual, moral, and practical choice. So, it frustrates me when I come close to giving that up. Why is intimacy that important? Why can't I just shut that part off until a guy comes along who actually wants to be with me? Aren't I worth that? Two years is a long time to be without something I would do every day if given the opportunity. And I wrestle with my decision. Why is it a big deal to me? *Is* this a big deal to me? Would I feel differently about myself if I slept with someone? A woman in her 30s is supposed to be at her sexual peak. I should take advantage of that. What would the consequences be? Do I just *think* I should feel a certain way and do or not do certain things? You only live once, so you should live a life you enjoy and do things you enjoy. It's all very confusing.

Last night, after an evening of drinking, I asked to go home with him. He offered to walk to our cars and think about it. If I'd pressed, he totally would've said yes. Instead, I said it's okay to say no. My feelings won't be hurt. There was a part of me that wanted to go home with him, but there was a part of me that obviously didn't. I mean, I've come this far. Why not keep going? Why not hit the two year mark? Or, at least wait for someone with whom I'm in a relationship. Or, at the very least, wait for someone who would go out with me a couple of times. This would be a purely sexual situation with no relationship behind it. I don't think I want that. But there's a part of me that's just like, oh stick it in already!

Because of last night, I've re-established contact. He knows I'm interested, and he knows what the outcome would be. If he calls, I'll go over. If he calls, I won't be able to say no. I hope he doesn't call.

...I hope he calls.