I'll admit it, like everyone else has: I LOVE SEX. I love everything to do with it. The touches, the feeling, the closeness. I can't get enough of it. If K and I both had the fortitude, I could do it all day long, every day for the rest of my life, and live in a serotonin-induced haze of happiness.
It wasn't always this way, however. For most of my life, I viewed sex as something to be endured. I didn't enjoy it all that much, frankly. It was something one just DID when they were in a relationship, and it took me a long time to realize what I was missing, what made the sex SUCK.
What was always missing was love.
Love and spiritual connection are absolutely essential to amazing lovemaking. All my life I THOUGHT I was in love with the men I had sex with. In fact, most of my life I equated love with sex to such a degree that I seriously thought that if a guy wanted to have sex with me on a regular basis (as opposed to a one-nighter), it meant that he loved me. Many other women go through the exact same thing. They equate love with sex. For my part, I was a delusional child, to put it simply.
Love is not sex, but sex is a manifestation of love. Without having real, true love in the equation, sex becomes mindless gratification, and is always ultimately disappointing. Mankind was made for connection, and trying to do without it will always be equally unsatisfying in the end.
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