The lost lust
난 그 사랑은 많이 그리웠다. 그 오랜 기대한 사랑은 너무 무섭지만, 난 아직도 원하겠다.
I’m pretty sure some of you have read my adventurous stories of sex experience. Not to let you down, but the truth is I have nothing left. A year without sex has numbed my instinct or crave for sex — as well as my memories somehow. There are only few remains, that I refuse to recall. Now, are you still down to this chapter?
Honestly it also took me a grand effort to actually back to write. I’ve been back and forth from the scratch to a dead end. I started off after telling myself a thousand times that I must write like I used to. But I ended up zoning out and crawling back to the tangled mess in my head. I just thought it’s either I have nothing left to tell or I have too much to keep for myself. Now it’s time to tell you why I shut my ‘doors’ to all type of partner — be it sex or love.
I believe the grieve from (solely) that brief affair has gone. But it has enough power to awaken all sorts of pain from the past I denied and have buried a long time ago. I was too absorbed in sadness until one day I realised I’ve changed into a much different person. An outgoing ENFP changed into INFJ? That was shocking for me. I delved deeper into this change of mine and found out another fact: I’ve been isolating myself from trusting people — even just to have sex. I tried couple of times, for your info, and none succeeded.
At some point I thought this is not me. I never knew I could stand months without sex or all the firlting towards it. I never found myself rarely going out to seek for some attention or desire from those guys. So I pushed myself to find out the old me — the heart of steel me. Nonetheless, everytime I tried to have sex, misery and fear were bursting in my head. When I kissed my partner, it was so uncomfortable to the point where I was dying to disappear right at that moment. I ended up disgusted over myself and blaming myself for being so reckless and inconsiderate towards my own good. I knew deep down I wasn’t ready for any attachment, including physical one. The irony is, the sex that used to be my biggest joy turned out to be a horror movie — even in my head sometimes.
After numerous failures in having sex, I realised things need to be figured out in advance of fixed. It took me months to come to a conclusion that I must accept this change — that it’s fine to take more time getting myself used to it, instead of forcing to search the old me. I soak myself into new stuff I never thought I would like, such as craving more time alone with myself rather than going out or interacting with people. I also grow bigger love to my room where I can feel safe and sound the best. I learn more about a set of changes of mine — what I truly want and what I sign up to. I slowly pave my way to the light of new hope — which sadly doesn’t come up without ‘but’.
Have you ever heard of something like ‘a dread in a hope’? If you haven’t, well that is exactly what I feel. I’ve got the strong motivation towards my goal — to achieve a new me in a brand new chapter of life. But I can feel the fear is creeping in that ray of hope. I guess I can never be a new me. Because in fact, no one can escape their past for that what makes who they are right now. My past is like the bruises on my wrist which I’m gonna carry forever. I might cover it or do anything to make it invisible, but the fact that it was there would never cease to exist. Grieving is a phase, but accepting is a lifetime task. And I’m not there yet. However I’m pretty sure I’m walking towards it.
As much as I want my life to be well planned and structured, no one has such authority. One thing I got within my grip is the way I react to every single event — be it bliss or misery.
