I don’t understand. This morning started off quite well. I finally managed to get to sleep without worrying about stuff like my roof caving in, or zombie unicorn horses trotting down the street, or anything else that makes no sense whatsoever.
I don’t know what happened. This switch got pulled. And I started feeling like I couldn’t breathe.
We were walking around town, and I felt agitated. Just… angry. I snapped at my mum, several times. I hate that. Because I know that when I snap at her, something’s very, very wrong in my head.
What the hell is going through my mind?
I’ve figured out one thing though. A pretty major thing.
I was reading through At Longing’s End, the excellent blog written by my friends Mina and Sylvanus. This one post seemed to resonate with me more than I could explain.
But then I realized that I can explain.
I was perfectly happy with sex. Talking about it, fantasizing, wanking, imagining my first time.
But something has seriously snapped.
I’m fucking tired of it. Just… virginity. Everything’s virginity. It’s here, there, everywhere and I just feel enormously pissed off with all of the damn thing.
Can I just not have sex or not have sex and enjoy myself either way?
I don’t care if it’s good or shit or completely amazeballs, I just want it to be fun!
There’s this great guy in my life. We get on like a house on fire, and I’d love to spend more time with him in London, so to get to know him better. But he has said to me that he wouldn’t be a good first-time-shag. For some reason, he thinks he’ll be bad for me. And I seriously hate that. I like that guy. And I don’t want something potentially nice and fun to be ruined by him thinking that.
Then there’s the entire situation at home.
You’d think some frig fun would be an excellent stress relief, but seriously, try and giving yourself the once-over when it feels like someone’s been sitting on you the entire day.
As I said in my A Brief Pause post, I do not get the relief I need from masturbation. I don’t even know what relief I need. Writing helps, but only so much.
Sometimes, I don’t want to think. I don’t want to be in control. And I want to feel something that’s not this… well, what is it?
Breathing. Breathing is important.