Over(sex)drive

Has sex lost its meaning for me?

It's been a long time since I've had a physical relationship with someone I genuinely cared about, rather than anonymous strangers in unfamiliar places.

It feels as if I've been on autopilot for so long that I'm afraid I've forgotten what it's like to take the wheel and drive to a destination of my own choosing, to a place I've been yearning to go for so long.

I feel nothing but emptiness inside, only a wave of regret washing over me at every attempt I make to fill that void that only results in failure.

Maybe W. was right.

Hiding my expectations and desires from the world doesn't protect me from disappointment; it only leaves me feeling weaker, emptier.

A fraud.

By not claiming my true wants and needs, I will never receive them.

I'm settling.

I'm accepting things way below the standard of my expectations.

No wonder I'm unhappy.

I'm not getting what I want, and I can only blame myself.

I've set my self up for disappointment by trying to protect myself from it.

It feels as if I've been given something completely opposite of what I wanted all along, and it's too late to take it back, too late for a do-over.

My mistake has cost my happiness, but this time I'm willing to fight for it back.

I know what I want now. I've always known.

Now it's just a matter of being honest with myself for wanting it, and not being afraid of going after it.

It's my turn to take the wheel and point it to the direction I want to go this time around.