My celibacy is on purpose. You see, it is most certainly not an accident.
Too many years of faking #newyearnewme led me to bed after bed of bullshit and lies.
Lies I told myself saying “I can handle it” as he licks his lips and leans in, “I’m not really looking for a relationship.”
The same bullshit I’ve heard time after time and yet here I am settling for yet another number.
You see, I wanted the love that I prayed for.
Someone to compliment my love language, who would speak words of adoration AND lust!
You see, I wanted the lust but I also wanted the love.
Unwilling to wait, so I allowed bullshit in my sheets. Knowing my worth but burying it beneath me.
Maybe my heart wasn’t tough enough. I always caught feelings and when I fell it was to the depths. You see, some can handle one-night-stands and casual sex.
Maybe they were stronger or maybe I was just too weak to live my truth.
Truth hidden beneath pain that was insecure, lonely, and horny, so I allowed a quick fix in my space.
Into the place I shouldn’t have given so freely.
Bouncing through bodies, ignoring the need to heal. Insane repetitive actions like an addict handles toxins.
Five-minute passions for years of self-destruction. Tugging and pulling at my broken heart.
I started believing that there would never be a man would change his relationship status for me.
I’m lost in this unfamiliar reality.
Celibate, but defying it.
I don’t want to hop from bed-to-bed, in between sheets that fill me with temporary relief. I want to be sustained and filled with perfect fit.
This celibacy hurts; it’s certainly not typical me, but you see,
the love I desire now overpowers the sex that I want.
I refuse to just add on another body.
I refuse to manifest in a space where I allow my insecurities to control me.
So for now, dear no one, it’s me and celibacy.