At first I was always the one to firmly propose that love doesn’t have a place in me. The feeling of it used to sound rather absurd. Having some sexual relationships in the past (with men of course) I realized that finding someone to hook up is quite easy but it is finding someone to really understand you, to nix needles for you at time of despair is rather hard. I for one have been at the receiving end all my life and perhaps it is the queer community wherein I have gained acceptance and a warm welcome. But men who think deep (and go deep too!) are what truly catches my eye. It feels good to be molly-cuddled, apple of someone’s eye for a change. In this process I consider sex as important as being with someone, however I have a different take altogether.
I feel sex is something which binds two people into one. Sounds clichéd and maybe it is, but didn’t the kama-sutra say so? We search for our destiny and look for companionship but why does it seem so hard to get. I have always been a closet and I am going to be one till the fag end of my career. It screams a sense of cowardice, betrayal but it is me who can only fathom melancholy, ordeal, plague.
My need of my better half is nothing overly exaggerated, hyperbole, melodrama. I need someone to be a friend, confidant and by all means an animal in bed (sic). But could all such qualities be truly found in someone? Maybe not as much as I can fulfil myself being splendid, illustrious, courtesan! It would be one of my many weird and perhaps abashed fantasies but I want to feel wanted, pantomime and felt at home. The strong arms which can provide solace and tranquillity, the fire which can ooze my seeds right away and the love which can cajole me into a sea of panoramic abundance would be need of my everyday hour. It’s been years since I found someone.
Trying with experienced is no go as they appear settled, peaceful, horny but it is the lack of commitment which they are scared of. But isn’t it what we all are benignly afraid of! It is like a cup of tea which we never want to avoid. The thought of watching the Kama-sutra is so lamenting and provoking that the embodiment of two souls truly exhilarates me. An open invitation to the world of solitude is tempting and also quite aggravating. I do feel like to be possessed not like a la bella torn from Edward and Jacob but like the world and he alone.
The comfort from him should be soothing. I have some wild dreams in sex also. For starters I like BDSM, and it is just not everyone’s cup of tea. I want to be the weak one, the feminine but only during sex. I am man enough to prove that. A trajectory in my sexuality may astound or even surprise men alike but since when was I normal?
Being weird has now become a fashion statement thanks to the gay messiah lady gaga. But then there was always a sense of weirdness in me from the beginning. I am not a big fan of her but I like the way she portrays her inner self to the public. After the bouts of depression I used to have as young as I can remember I had always been a go-getter and took pride in being the yang, divergent, the opposite.
The author tweets at twitter.com/chipku90
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