The Empowerment of Lust
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Actually I don’t find the word empowerment fetching. You can’t help but feel that anyone who would use it would best be served by a kick in the ass.
I have a heterosexual friend who has the most miserable marriage imaginable. He and his wife can’t get along. So he’s been living with his mother for two years. He pays the mortgage on the house his wife lives in. And all her bills. She’s too inert and lazy to work.
For that time he’d been without sex until a couple of days ago when she dropped by and in his words “raped” him.
Today he was at my shop. She called him to say that she was at his mother’s house. The prospect of more sex had him flash out of the store like a greased thunderbolt.
I had to smile. It was like something out a sitcom. What lives these straight people live.
And it dovetailed with some thoughts about sexuality that had been passing through my mind lately.
Right now I’m a sexual corpse.
With my lover away you might think I’d feel lucky to have my libido dim, wane and all but die.
Long ago when my then hidden sexuality came suddenly alive it saved me.
Conscious lust grabbed me by the head, shook it and told me to mend my life.
Put plainly the desire to screw a pretty boy made me crawl out of the hole I was digging myself into. It got me out of my parent’s house. Out of my home town (Savannah, GA). It had me interacting with people.
There were other motivations. Curiosity, whimsy, young manhood. If I hadn’t desperately wanted to fuck they wouldn’t have been enough.
I’ve seen people who denied their lust. Their hearts and minds grow deformed. With no unkindness meant the sexually self-denied seem creepy, slimy things that make me gag. Sometimes I just need to leave the room and hide.
Really I think I’d be happier tossing and turning all night long waiting for Alex’s return.
Too much desire can be a damning thing. But just a little unsatisfied lust is like a tune in the back of your mind that keeps you moving throughout the day.