The thing that hurts me the most about a break-up is not the fact that I’ve actually lost the person, but their lingering presence inside my head that stays with me even when I try to move on.
Time may gradually begin to heal a broken heart, but it doesn’t solve everything — call me a pessimist, but it’s true. You can’t erase thoughts, even if you repress them.
For me, sex is the Father of all evil (see previous article ‘Sex is as Overrated as Pie’ for the basic premise of this). Just thinking about a loved one with another person, intimately, is enough to drive me to alcoholism. I am weak. I am one person and I cannot fight the media, television, or even my own sexual urges — sex is everywhere. How does one escape such a power?
Perhaps one may feel they could live without sex, but what about the worry that their partner couldn’t? I recall an ex-girlfriend of mine that went and slept with a “friend” of mine because she felt she wasn’t getting enough from me at home. She had an addiction. Since then, the images haunted me for months and months, and new relationships failed to evolve successfully, perhaps as they should’ve done. Women thought I was paranoid. I was, but they never understood why.
From my experience, I know that fighting sex with sex doesn’t work, either. Many times I have attempted to adopt this “laddish” persona after consuming several alcoholic beverages on nights out on the town with my drinking buddies. I’d pull randoms and sleep with them to indirectly get back at the women that have broken my heart. I developed this technique which involved “turning off” all my emotions for the sake of an alcohol-induced fuck, which vented my anger. It was never rape, but if there was a God up there watching at any time he’d be quite shocked by the amount of rage that went behind each act. Eventually, when I did sober up (normally in the early hours of the morning), I’d cry myself to sleep in disgust; I was hurting myself more than they ever could.
Right now, I am at a point in my life where I haven’t had sex in months, yet I am still in love. I am single, and every day sex enters my mind, but I don’t have an urge to do it any more. And before you choose to make the point about my crown jewels not working any more: I’m in my mid-20s and everything still works just fine when it wants to (I find the speed bumps on an open road bus ride particularly arousing, for one).
Despite change, unhappiness still pursues me. How to save a life?