In Between Days

Day 3:

You know that movie Never Been Kissed with Drew Barrymore? This one is called Never Been Picked and it stars me.

To have and to hold.

I just get had for a little while but never held forever.

As I’ve been mulling this over, I can only come to one conclusion and it’s that there is something fundamentally wrong with me that every single person who enters my orbit eventually decides I am not worth it. So, then, I ask myself what is wrong with me? And here are the things I have come up with so far today:

• Pliable. I am not pliable enough. Meaning, I am too rigid. I don’t lean in enough; I don’t ask for help. I don’t rely on my partner to help me. I think this makes people feel like I don’t need them. Which is so far from the truth. The truth is, I need them so much. I don’t know how to ask for help. I don’t know how to lean in, crumble, fall down, let them pick me up, dust me off, take charge of me in the moments I can’t take charge of myself. That must feel very lonely to someone who wants to love me.
• Sex/Physical Intimacy. I am no good at it. I am scared of it. I am afraid of rejection when a lover’s eyes rake over my body, when their hands take hold of all my vulnerable places. I am so very scared they will not like me anymore when I take my clothes off. I think, over time, this probably lessens a person’s sexual desire for me. I am no fun in bed. Everyone wants someone who can let go and have fun and be all-in. I don’t know how.
• Motivation. I am in stasis right now. I am in stasis a lot if I am truly honest with myself. I haven’t ever found any direction to go in and so I end up just going in circles most of the time. As frustrating as it is for me, imagine someone trying to love you and grow with you and they can’t because you don’t ever really grow. You never learned how to water your own garden. You just wither and die as the seasons roll on.

I don’t know. I know I have some goodness in me somewhere and I know it is lovable but I’m not the total package ever for anyone. And that’s not me feeling sorry for myself, it’s just me being honest about who I am and what I bring to the table and ultimately what people want from another person. It has been my experience that sex is at the very top of the list. I think my motivation and pliability could be overlooked if I could give more of myself sexually. I think people choose partners so much of the time based on sexual compatibility and all the other ways they are lacking just pale in comparison to sex. Most relationships end because of infidelity. If sex wasn’t so important, then why are people falling all over themselves to find it, to have it, to get it, to keep it, to do it, forevermore? No one ever walked away from someone and said:

Dumper: “Man, the sex was off the chain, bro! Not only that, but she was kind and good and cooked me burritos at 2 a.m. and rubbed my head when it was hurting and made sure I always had clean underwear and did I mention she was fucking hilarious and charitable and liked babies and cats??? Dude, she was a fucking 10 and all of our values aligned perfectly. Oh, and the SEX???? Did I already mention that? It was bomb, dude.”

Friend: “So then what happened, my guy?”

Dumper: “Umm, she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life and didn’t know how to tell me when she needed help. I had to walk away from that shit, bro. Toxic as fuck.”

It more likely goes like this:

Dumper:  “Dude, she was great. She was hitting on all levels but the sex….it just wasn’t there. It’s like she didn’t even need it to exist. I don’t know, man.”

Friend: Yeah, dawg. I feel that, bro.”

But anyway, yeah.
I suck at sex.

I am no good at shaking my titties and throwing my ass in a circle.
I am no good at it at all, my non-existent readers.
It is not in my wheelhouse to begin to even remotely know how to be sexy and lounge around with my titties flopping about and my ass hanging out of my shorts; to feel sultry and goooood about it and make my mans’ mouth water for that brownish pink teat all up in-between his teeth. I don’t know how to take a single pic of my pussy lips peeking out from my see-through panties and send it to him to make his loins ache and his dick drip pre-cum in the middle of a midday meeting. I don’t sleep naked and I don’t admire myself in the mirror and think I am a sexy beast and any man would be so lucky to slobber all over this.

I have problems.

I want sex.
I like sex.
But I am not sexual.
And being sexual is important. I get it. I understand it. I don’t begrudge anyone from needing more from me. I really don’t. It is human and it is valid. I am sad that I can’t provide it. Like sad-sad devastated defunct down-trodden dead.

Maybe I will find love when I’m 87 and neither of us can no longer have sex. Maybe then I will get to have and to hold forever.

I’m sorry, J.
I’m sorry.
I know you loved me for who I am.
I will always love you for seeing me and loving me.
I’m sorry I couldn’t give you everything.
I don’t blame you at all.

That’s it for today’s STEPHANIE TALK wherein she tries to shed light on her shortcomings in order to self-reflect and acquire some personal growth but instead just blames something else so that she doesn’t have to admit that she is the problem. Stay tuned for more.

Ugh, I am insufferable.