I realised last month that it had been 4 years since I started having sex. I didn't realise it, and it almost past by completely unnoticed. Not that I've had reason to be thinking about sex lately, except maybe regretting it all.
I was back at the clinic today. Instead of walking (or hobbling, which might be a more accurate description) out having had my dick frozen for the 20th time or however long it's been, I had my dick frozen and a box of pills. Because there was one patch where some warts had been that was really sore, and the doctor was a bit wary of freezing it at first. He had to go get another doctor (who I've seen before, because I've pretty much seen every doctor who works there now) for a second opinion. That opinion was that it was either herpes, or some other condition whose name I can't remember now. So now I have pills to take for 5 days, just in case it is herpes, and results of a swab to wait for when I go back next week. If it is herpes, then these tablets are meant to clear it up. If it turns out it isn't herpes and this sore patch hasn't healed, then it's that other thing and I need to use steroid cream (which I'm not using now because if it's herpes it would just cause a massive outbreak) and they want to do a biopsy. Of this open sore and the warts just to make sure they are just warts and not something.
I started to laugh as she was explaining it. Not because it was amusing, but because I really couldn't believe this was happening. It's all getting ridiculous at this point, and I'm start to wonder what's the point of bothering to do anything if it's going to keep on going like this. Progress followed by one setback after another.
I tried thinking about what one of the other doctors said to me, about not blaming myself for anything. And I get what she meant. If you have sex, chances are you'll come into contact with HPV. I've never had it before, so I didn't know what the Aldara cream would end up doing. Yeah, I kind of wish I had just carried on with the freezing from the beginning instead of trying the cream. But I was going on the staff's recommendations, and was lured in by the idea of being able to treat it at home. But that's seeing things in hindsight.
It would have been one thing if I had got it from having some very satisfying sex, but that isn't even the case. If I look back, most of the time I wasn't really having sex with these guys because I really wanted to have sex with them. It was mostly cases of some guy coming on to me, and me feeling compelled to go along with it. So even though I wasn't exactly tripping over myself to sleep with them, I played along and ended up sleeping with them because I wouldn't say 'no'. Because after getting to a certain point it felt like I had to keep on going. And then I rarely ever got off when I did have sex. It's not like I even got that.
This is me thinking about these events through the filter of having spent a year with this situation dragging on, so maybe I'm not being objective about it. But once it's over (though it doesn't feel like it will ever be over at this point), I'm not sure how willing I am going to be about getting back to the whole casual sex thing. If it had been a lot of fun, that's something else. But it was mainly a lot of mediocre nights. I would rather be seeing someone in the context of a regular relationship, rather than going back to all that. (Not that I wasn't looking for a more substantial relationship before, I just had horrible luck meeting anyone who wanted to stay around.)
I'd rather spend an evening sitting with a guy watching a film and then maybe having sex, than sleeping with a dozen different people every fortnight. If I had to pick something good about the lacklustre sex I've had that lead me to this state, it would be that I enjoyed the physically intimate parts more than the sexually intimate ones. I think I need emotional support more than sexual relief.
That's not to say I don't want to have sex with someone, because that would be great. But I'd want something more from it as well.
