Monday, March 24, 2008

Dealing With the Sex Drought

There are a lot of things that suck about the end of a relationship. Long or short, screwed-up or harmonious, serious or fun -- having that significant other usually guarantees a number of things and I'm not just talking about a date on Saturday night.

I may not be the first to tell you this, but chicks like sex too. And when you've been getting it regularly and then suddenly NOT it's rather a harsh reality. Even if the sex was less than sensational, you had the guy somewhat trained. He could push the buttons, or at least you could rub up against him and push them yourself. Either way, you got to squeal, he got to grunt and then there was that tender cuddle time where the breathing gradually slows and the limbs untangle.

To have that suddenly wrenched away at the end of a relationship may be the last thing you're thinking about during the dramatic ending -- the tears, the hurled glassware, the elaborate insults, whatever -- but I can assure you, it creeps to the top of your mind as you put yourself to bed alone night after night.

There should be a taper-off period or something -- at least if the break-up didn't include a big, fat cheater on one side or the other. Why not just plan an hour or two a week? Make appointments, pull out your PalmPilots. There doesn't need to be any friggin' EMOTION. There doesn't need to be snuggling. This is sex. This is a base need.

Yeah, right.

It may be the most frustrating thing about being a chick -- or it's the most frustrating thing about being human, depends on who you ask -- is that there is some invisible emotional sidecar that cruises alongside when the copulation roller coaster gets underway. Sex might not equal love but it sure as hell equals something and its hard to enjoy a roll-around without an emotional hangover.

It can't be a physical condition, after all, a girl doesn't get emotionally attached to her vibrator. But when I think about the option of heading out to a bar, chatting up some clean-looking feller and taking him home to my bed, I'm afraid that same sidecar would send my emotions careening off-balance. Either I'd start crying and boot the guy or I'd convince myself he's the fated reason my ex and I parted ways and start picking out names for our children.

Oh well.

There are plenty of good things about a break-up. It's the quickest way to lose five pounds that I know of. It's a great way to bond with single girlfriends. It gives chicks a rationalization to spend lavishly on new accessories. It's an excuse to go out more often and to give up all notions of housekeeping.

But kicking the sex habit -- it will give you the DT shakes. I'm being forced to go cold-turkey . . . can't someone invent me a patch?

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