I Live In Sexual Solitude

When I think about sex, I feel sad and alone. I'm not talking about the act of sex itself (I may be alone, but I'm never sad. lol). What I'm really talking about is sexuality.

It's astounding to me that something that is so huge inside me can be so without expression in my everyday life. Even at 49 years old, there is nothing that inspires and excites and interests me the way that sex does. And yet there is almost no socially acceptable outlet for expressing, much less pursuing, what I feel. It leaves me feeling solitary and hopelessly unfulfilled. Worse, I feel unfulfillable (if there is such a word). I can't help but wonder how many people are walking around just like me, with their own secret sadness, a hidden world apart, known only to themselves.

Please understand, this isn't about getting laid. My wife and I make love once or twice a month. And, while our sex isn't filled with thrills, it's comfortable and loving and, I'd like to think, mutually satisfying. But we don't talk about sex. We don't share fantasies or thoughts or experiences. After 30 years of marriage, maybe it's all been said, but for my part, the silence comes from knowing that expression isn't welcome. Fantasies are taken as thinly veiled demands. Desire is met with feelings of insecurity and fear of inadequacy. And, of course, anything you say, or do, can and will be used against you in those inevitable rough spots that every marriage goes through from time to time. After a while, it's easier to follow the path of least resistance and accept that, in marriage at least, the expression of sexuality is only acceptable within the narrow confines of silence and routine.

I recognize that acceptance of this situation is a choice. I could push the issue or even seek a solution outside our marriage. But in either case, I feel like I'd be risking all the good things I have in my life in search of something that I struggle to even quantify. I know it's there. I feel it's burden and the melancholy sense of isolation that comes with it, but I also know it's more than just a desire for sex. In all the years I've been married, I only cheated once. It was a great lay, but it wasn't what I wanted. It wasn't a connection. It wasn't intimacy. It wasn't sharing and rolling around in each other's sexual psyche. It was just a good ****. And, not to disparage the value of a good ****, it wasn't enough.

I want intimacy... connectivity... to touch and be touched by another's sexual self. And to do it without cheating or lying or sneaking around. I want the thrill of looking behind the curtain and showing someone what's hidden behind mine. And to know our sexual selves are safe in each other's hands. I want what I want without turning into someone I wouldn't want to be. In short, I want what (I feel like) I can't have. I want to not be alone in my sexuality.

UncertainNotions UncertainNotions
56-60, M
1 Response Mar 25, 2009

I, too, have gone through what you are going through. But I finally decided I could not continue with the status quo. I'll send a private message with more on my story...