If the last time that I thought about sex it was like a dream, or more like a delusion. The whispers of isolation left the question in doubt. I beg you to argue for the existence of love. What, are we to believe love suddenly appears as if it were fashion?
Doesn't everyone define the criteria for what love is, how it happens, and why it hasn't happened for the most unfortunate?
Some seek to have sex. You can't HAVE sex, people, or control. As if sex is a privilege or a bargaining chip! As if people and the relationships that we share aren't being experienced simultaneously. Objects can be possessed. They have no choice in where they rest, who put's them there, and what emotional reaction is brought about by its presence.
Objectified relationships start with a subtle but powerful internal narrative. How fluid sounding does it sound when a women claim says,"my boyfriend is coming over to take me to dinner. Or, "where is my wife? She needs to put my clothes away."
We need to bond, to love and be loved. Yet, we won't unconditionally give ourselves away without the expectation of a gift in return.
Maybe the desire to control the fate of others is too tempting to leave unto the world at large. Maybe the choice to interfere is too logical, or too simple to be torn apart by pragmatism.
Love can't resist, sex can. Love isn't a decision, or a means to find happiness. Sex surely is. Love needs to be free of distraction, sex doesn't. Love knows no bounds, while sex certainly does.
Can sex coexist with free-will? How tidy is the majority when casting out the social deviant for having the gull to be self-reliant!
So, the last time I thought about sex wasn't in shameful sin or instigated by tempting taboo. It was to alleviate the burden of Love that stresses my mind.
