Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2003-06-18 07:26 am
azurelunatic) wrote2003-06-18 07:26 am
the nature of pain
I've been frustrated as holy fuck-all, or not-fuck-all, this past week or so. Those linked to me can attest to that. One person's been getting flashes of HORNY every so often; others can merely feel the painful frustration.
The great thing is, though, that I've barely been cumulatively noticing it.
I notice it at the time. It hurts, like twelve square inches of thigh-pinching folded together on itself. But I can ignore it. I've had years of practice in ignoring it, in going on as if I didn't feel my body urging me to go ahead and get fucked. At the end of the day, I don't feel as if I've been aching all day, as if there's something that I need that I'm missing.
I've cheated, a little. I've given myself feather-touches, caresses, but knowing that I won't go all the way, that I won't head towards orgasm. It burns, a tired muscle, tired from holding too-tight-not-tight-enough, in a state of constant vigilance.
Through this, I remain serene, if slightly ruffled by my physical tension. I am loved. I hear it in the warmth of a voice, the way my calls are answered. I am trusted. My family loves me. A child adores me and depends on me.
So I'm not getting any. So what. This has gone beyond 'not getting any by ethical constraint' to 'not getting any by choice'. I've figured out a workaround, and gone far enough to know that yes, it will work, it does work -- before backing off.
I'm saving up this energy for something. I'm not sure what, as yet. Perhaps Friday, Saturday, Sunday will show me?
I see the temptation to call this a 'reclaimed virginity'. But it's not. It's more than that. It's a deliberate retention of my sexual energy for a purpose, I know not what yet. I do this with certain knowledge of what I'm missing out on while I wait. I think it takes more -- something -- this way than if I did not know what I was missing out on. I don't do this for fear of sin, now, but for curiousity, and for the certainty that I am doing something meaningful, something that I will later delight in.
The great thing is, though, that I've barely been cumulatively noticing it.
I notice it at the time. It hurts, like twelve square inches of thigh-pinching folded together on itself. But I can ignore it. I've had years of practice in ignoring it, in going on as if I didn't feel my body urging me to go ahead and get fucked. At the end of the day, I don't feel as if I've been aching all day, as if there's something that I need that I'm missing.
I've cheated, a little. I've given myself feather-touches, caresses, but knowing that I won't go all the way, that I won't head towards orgasm. It burns, a tired muscle, tired from holding too-tight-not-tight-enough, in a state of constant vigilance.
Through this, I remain serene, if slightly ruffled by my physical tension. I am loved. I hear it in the warmth of a voice, the way my calls are answered. I am trusted. My family loves me. A child adores me and depends on me.
So I'm not getting any. So what. This has gone beyond 'not getting any by ethical constraint' to 'not getting any by choice'. I've figured out a workaround, and gone far enough to know that yes, it will work, it does work -- before backing off.
I'm saving up this energy for something. I'm not sure what, as yet. Perhaps Friday, Saturday, Sunday will show me?
I see the temptation to call this a 'reclaimed virginity'. But it's not. It's more than that. It's a deliberate retention of my sexual energy for a purpose, I know not what yet. I do this with certain knowledge of what I'm missing out on while I wait. I think it takes more -- something -- this way than if I did not know what I was missing out on. I don't do this for fear of sin, now, but for curiousity, and for the certainty that I am doing something meaningful, something that I will later delight in.
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I've been patching leaks, I think.
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Waiting to see what happens to it all.
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