I go through periods where I am not in the mood to write. And then, I have a day (or a few in a row) where I just have so much that goes through my mind that it cannot be contained. Today is one of those days. Everything I seem to encounter makes me want to voice what has been put on my mind.
I have this friend who is in Afghanistan who has repeatedly tried to encourage me into having a "friends with benefits" kind of relationship. I don't believe that will ever work for me. I don't want a casual sexual relationship with anyone, but especially not with someone I am friends with. When he heads down that path, I always ask him if he loves me. "As a friend," he replies. Don't get me wrong, my ideal relationship is one that starts with us as friends and at some point becomes something more than that. Having sex because I want to meet a physical desire still leaves me wanting because I am looking for a more intimate desire to be met. Friends with benefits would mean that I was not being true to myself and could also permanently damage the friendship.
When my friends--male or female--talk about how long it's been since they last had sex, I tell them to get back to me when they reach however many months I have gone now. Right now, it's over twenty-six months. Folks, don't mistake what I am saying. It's a choice that has gotten me through all these months. It's not a lack of offers, it's a lack of interest in those offers. I am holding out for Mr. Right-for-me and not Mr. RightNow. I joke that I have been revirginated (and no, I don't really believe that's possible--I do have three kids after all!). And in a way, I have been. For the first time in my life, I am saving myself for true love and not giving sex away as a replacement for love. Not lust. Not passion. Not like. Not convenience or need. For love. Remaining true to myself means not trading in who I am in a moment of passion because it feels good RIGHT NOW. Trust me, I was close and am ever-so-thankful things didn't work out. I can still say I am true to what I want for me.
Being true to myself means never having to look at myself in the mirror and wish I hadn't chosen less than I was worth in a moment of needfulness.
I have this friend who is in Afghanistan who has repeatedly tried to encourage me into having a "friends with benefits" kind of relationship. I don't believe that will ever work for me. I don't want a casual sexual relationship with anyone, but especially not with someone I am friends with. When he heads down that path, I always ask him if he loves me. "As a friend," he replies. Don't get me wrong, my ideal relationship is one that starts with us as friends and at some point becomes something more than that. Having sex because I want to meet a physical desire still leaves me wanting because I am looking for a more intimate desire to be met. Friends with benefits would mean that I was not being true to myself and could also permanently damage the friendship.
When my friends--male or female--talk about how long it's been since they last had sex, I tell them to get back to me when they reach however many months I have gone now. Right now, it's over twenty-six months. Folks, don't mistake what I am saying. It's a choice that has gotten me through all these months. It's not a lack of offers, it's a lack of interest in those offers. I am holding out for Mr. Right-for-me and not Mr. RightNow. I joke that I have been revirginated (and no, I don't really believe that's possible--I do have three kids after all!). And in a way, I have been. For the first time in my life, I am saving myself for true love and not giving sex away as a replacement for love. Not lust. Not passion. Not like. Not convenience or need. For love. Remaining true to myself means not trading in who I am in a moment of passion because it feels good RIGHT NOW. Trust me, I was close and am ever-so-thankful things didn't work out. I can still say I am true to what I want for me.
Being true to myself means never having to look at myself in the mirror and wish I hadn't chosen less than I was worth in a moment of needfulness.
Comments
Post a Comment