Friday, March 11, 2016

Microstory 275: Perspective Fifty

Perspective Forty-Nine

I can tell that there is something wrong with my sister and her fiancĂ©. She would kill me if she knew I was telling you this, but she is nearly completely disinterested in sex. She’s always been this way, and it’s always strained her relationships. She likes the company of others, but this causes problems, because people who would be all right with a sexless marriage are few and far between. I guess she needs to find one of her own kind. Me? I have the opposite problem. I’ve recently diagnosed myself with sex addiction, and it would be dangerous for me to date one of my kind. But I don’t want to be with an asexual either, or worse, alone. I just need to find a balance. Of course, I’ve been attending support group meetings. The problem there is that I have to go two towns over so that no one I know catches me there, but that means there are plenty of men and women with my same problem, literally ready and willing. Hooking up with them would be easy, with no strings attached, but it would be a clichĂ©. I’ve done really well so far. Others in the group have approached me, unable to hold back their urges, but we get coffee and talk, and it makes us both feel better. People will say that this particular support group could never be effective, by its very nature, but it has helped me immensely. Everyone in the group comes from a different background, and so we spend a great deal of the time just learning about each other. In fact, it’s sometimes better to stay off the subject of sex. Part of the issue—well, I should say my issue, at least—is that I think about sex too much. These people’s stories are fascinating, and it feels good to sort of have this safe space to explain myself. My sister has her own sources of stress, and we don’t have the kind of relationship with our parents where we tell them everything. I would go to my friends with my truth, but I fear being judged by them. If there existed a way to tell someone my secret, and then go back in time to stop myself if they react poorly, I would be fine. Wouldn’t that be great. I actually tried that the other day without thinking. I was trying to hand a customer back his computer after fixing it when I dropped it on the floor. As a computer nerd, my immediate thought was to find the undo button. The guy asked me what I was looking for, and I was honest with him, so we had a good laugh, because he was apparently not worried about his ruined equipment. He gave me his number, but I don’t know if I’m ready to use it.

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