The New Eroticism

She was begging me to give her a go. Give her a shot, who knows what will happen, I may just like it. I'm a bit indifferent, but after the other day, when I found my mouth lingering a little too long while licking the batter-covered spoon, I thought: It's been a while, what the hell. I'll try something new. So I turned her on.

A few times.

In fact, it took three cycles of my electric toothbrush until I reached the brink, and my eyes were rolling back. If only I smoked...

Well, after one 12-year relationship of divine intensity, and another 12-week relationship of intense divinity, that's about as much as this chick wants to handle. If only the first one would have been a total dick, dumping me for another, or something equally despicable - but no, it had to be, "I need to increase my unconscious connection with the universe." On top of that, during the months of broken-heartedness to follow, driving hours to see me whenever I needed, making me laugh, keeping me company, being gracious and kind... it may seem that it would be harder to let go of the romance if we weren't having such a damn good time being friends.

And the other one, well... it confirmed my suspicion of spiritual sharing, the meshing of psyches, the possibility that two strangers can somehow know each other, never having met before. But again, the stars seemed out of alignment for us to go that direction. Yes, we are also still friends. What these encounters have left me with, though, is a standard to which no casual or masturbatory experiences could possibly measure up.

I'm ruined.

These days, more of my friends... guys AND gals... have said 'no thanks' to a relationship (even somewhat promising ones) because of the energy it demands. Friends with kids, dogs, horses, and just even jobs - why is it all our time is absorbed by things that used to be considered hobbies, or everyday parts of life? Ten years ago I made half the money, and still saved a considerable amount for things, yet now I live check to check. Twenty years ago (I don't care if that dates me, at least something is...) I was going on vacations with my parents, for a week or more at a time, every year! Does anyone do that anymore? Is this what brought all the polyamorous circles into existence? A sort of 'booty-calling tree?' I don't yet know the answer to this quandary. I'm sure not finding it in small appliances.

Would I do it again? Not sure. I have a feeling it may have been just a one-night stand. I just don't care. Besides that one bout, and the rare dream of pressing up against a washing machine, the only thing these days going, "OH, OH, OH" are my pillow shams, but that's because I bought them at an after-Christmas sale and turned them upside down.

Bah Humbug.