I finally succumbed to my urges on the weekend and had a meaningless fling. Meaningless because there wasn’t any emotional connection. She was there and available. I wasn’t physically attracted to her either, not that it would matter much anyway when there’s a lack of emotional intimacy.
It was mechanical and I was just going through the motions. It felt surreal like I was watching myself in third person. My senses were numb too, as if I was feeling by proxy. It felt ridiculous. I even had an internal monologue happening for a while when I caught my reflection in a mirror:
What are you doing here? Do you know how ridiculous you look?
I went into the situation with no expectations and I left it without a sense of satisfaction. It felt only marginally better than if I had done it alone. I would like to think that I’ve ended my drought but in a way I don’t think I have – I still feel the same-old.
I’ve always felt that sex is only good when there’s an emotional connection. This experience has only served to confirm my thoughts once more.
“Sex without love is merely healthy exercise.”
In that sense, at least I had a good workout. π