I might be having some cognitive dissonance too. I think I should be more alarmed than I am, and it keeps not happening, so I end up feeling weird and confused.
I think it's... it's related to the reason I don't drink. I think, so often, people drink in order to escape their own lives, to... to lose themselves in something external. I've never felt the need to do that. I've always thought it was that simple—never feeling the need—but perhaps it goes deeper than that. Perhaps with alcohol, or sex, or anything else that involves a... a letting go of inhibitions... I actually fear that escape. Perhaps I fear that I really will lose myself, for more than the time being. That I won't be able to find myself again. And... I mean, to escape my life, really, even the language I'm using, it's—well, the French even refer to orgasm as "a little death," and so in a sense... I think some part of me feels that letting go will result in... some kind of death of the self, so to speak. I find physical intimacy... consuming, in that way. It's difficult.
It's easier when it's... a means to an end, I suppose. An expression of care for another person. But I... I do value my inhibitions. Generally speaking. And so... when I'm reminded that I've put them aside for a time... well, in a way... inhibitions, courtesy, a sense of being... civilized, it's all of a piece. There's this sense that I've lost who I choose to be. It's not that I'm without passion, but that giving myself over to passion feels like abandoning reason and principle, and doing that purely for pleasure and escape... terrifies me.
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It is a bigger deal for me than it is for you, that you can just— get me there.
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... yeah, that sounds right.
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It's alright that it feels weird. And I hope you know that I'm honoured by your trust in me.
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With feeling it?
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[ He gestures helplessly. ]
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Sex scares me.
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Well then, the obvious solution in this case is exposure therapy.
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Ben.
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It's easier when it's... a means to an end, I suppose. An expression of care for another person. But I... I do value my inhibitions. Generally speaking. And so... when I'm reminded that I've put them aside for a time... well, in a way... inhibitions, courtesy, a sense of being... civilized, it's all of a piece. There's this sense that I've lost who I choose to be. It's not that I'm without passion, but that giving myself over to passion feels like abandoning reason and principle, and doing that purely for pleasure and escape... terrifies me.
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That makes sense.
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Do you feel weird when you think about the sex you had after the fact?
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