Headspace

I have these really messed up views about relationships and sex. I don’t know where these come from. It may be my seriously flawed upbringing or my boarding school years.

I think I constantly search for love. This is for a bunch of possible reasons.

I feel like I’m on a time restraint. Certain things have to be done by a certain age in my head. It’s my structure, my safety net. Something I have my autism to thank for. In boarding school, there was no structure, even though they spent six years trying to convince us otherwise.

I had no education or preparation for sex and relationships, apart from what was going on in my environment. What with my parents being obnoxious to each other, my dad being very weird about sex and my boarding school mates playing sexual mind games with each other (this was mostly one girl, though).

As I mentioned in my last post, I am self-educated on sex. It took me many years to find out what I know now, and I’m still learning new stuff every day. I consider myself a decent source on sex, with what I learned from books, but I wish people had just told me that stuff.

I am even less educated on relationships. My parents didn’t exactly set the benchmark for good relationships, and I kinda hate them for it. They didn’t prepare me for this. I didn’t prepare myself for this. I lived like a fucking nun for years, and I’m only just getting to know myself.

I’m single. I have been for twenty years. This included not having a flirt with anyone, not having a casual relationship, not having a steady relationship, I take it you know where I’m going with this? I have toyed with the idea of joining a convent, but I don’t know if nuns get to masturbate (OH THE BLASPHEMY, insinuating that innocent nuns have a play, how dare I!). And I wouldn’t be able to give up masturbating.

I know why I have these meaningless crushes. I keep saying that they’re not meaningless, but they really are. It started with Him. I don’t want to go into it any further, but I made a twat of myself in front of him (I wanted to kiss him and he pulled back) and that broke me like the little twig I am. I started having crushes on celebrities and claiming that I was SO IN WUV and that it wasn’t a phase. Those two things are the two biggest lies I’ve ever told. Of course I wasn’t in love. Of course it was a phase. I’ve never been in love. I have no idea what love is.

Nobody will indulge me. Indulge me in some flirting or in some casual intelligent banter or anything like that. I crave to be desired. But no-one desires me. They have yet to seduce me or drop like flies for me.

You wonder how I look naked? I look weird naked. My stomach is mystifying. It has three levels, each more maddening than the last (yes, my stomach is one of those scary fairground attractions). I don’t get my body. I don’t get how I work. My mind is as mystifying as my stomach. I just don’t get me.

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