This is the third time in my life that I’ve gone a whole year without sex. The problem is that there seems to be no end in sight! Usually it’s because I take a long time to get over my breakups and I want to make sure I’m healthy and happy again before I go off and sleep with someone. I’m also not really the one-night stand type of girl. I want to be appreciated and respected if someone is getting in my pants! I know my worth, but at this point, it’s getting a little tough to keep my high standards.
- I’m horny as hell. I’m a woman with a high sex drive, and as such, it sucks going this long without getting laid. At first, when I was sad and missed my ex, I didn’t care at all. Then I was super focused on myself and getting better. I didn’t care then either. Now that I’m feeling good about my life, I want to get some and NOW.
- I’m about to make out with a fence post. Obviously it’s not just the act of intercourse that I miss. It’s all the little stuff – hand holding, cuddling, and of course making out. I really, really miss making out. I know that I probably could’ve made out with someone by now, but I’m too picky. I want to actually feel attracted to that person, and have a damn good time sucking face. Now, though, I’m ready to kiss the next guy who offers.
- My standards are quickly disappearing. I always tell myself I’m going to wait for a dude I’m super interested in, who I’m attracted to and who treats me well. I want the next one to be the right one, but honestly, maybe I just need to loosen the hell up and have some fun. Who cares if he’s a good guy? It’s just sex… right? Unfortunately, my brain doesn’t work that way. The longer I go, though, the harder it gets not to just grab the next man I see and attack him.
- I wish I had met someone back when I didn’t care. I know I might not have gone for him, but at least I wouldn’t already be at this level of desperation. I could’ve eased into everything slowly and figured out what I wanted, picking and choosing who to sleep with. I could still do that, but at this point, I hardly even care. I’m about to hook up with the first guy who takes me out, as long as he’s not creepy or a serial killer.
- I don’t want to have sex with a random, but… I mean, it could happen. It probably won’t, but let’s just pray I meet someone soon. I am not the type to meet a dude at a bar or a club and get down in the bathroom, because I’m super paranoid about STDs and such. That’s probably why I’ve gone this long without getting laid – that and the fact that I mostly spend time with my friends and engaging in hobbies that only middle-aged divorced women and old gay men enjoy.
- I should be enjoying myself while I’m still young. I keep telling myself that. I’m old enough to let go and have fun in bed, but still in good shape with lots of energy. This would be the perfect time to have lots and lots of sex. Instead, I’m in bed alone with my cat every night. Or my vibrator. Hopefully not both.
- I’m terrified that when I finally get some, it’ll be bad. After all this time, I worry that the sex I finally have won’t meet my inflated expectations. On the other hand, I could be happy with just about anything at this point. It’s that I don’t want to be. I want it to be mind-blowing and worthy of my patience.
- I still don’t want to have regrettable sex. After all this — all my desperation and my horrible horniness — I want it to mean something. I can’t help it. I’m a girl, and I too often attach my emotions to sexual contact. I’m not going to sleep with a guy who grosses me out, either physically or mentally. I would like to at least get along with my next sex partner and find him fun. I want to trust him enough not to screw me over (figuratively or literally). I don’t think that’s too much to ask.
