“Tricia, do you miss having sex?”

I get this question on occasion, always preceded by, “I hope this isn’t too personal, but… do you?”

Yes. I do.Silhouettes of two coffee cups on red background

“It seems like that would be a hard thing to give up.”

Yes. It is.

I’ve let this topic mull in my mind a bit before I decided to write about it. Yes, it’s personal, but not too personal. I’m willing to go there with you.

I do miss it. Anyone who has had it great would miss it much. Deduce from that what you will.

But here’s the real truth: more than the sex, I miss the intimacy. They’re not the same thing.

Some can put a price tag on sex; nobody can put a price tag on intimacy. You can’t buy it, you can’t sell it, you can’t demand it, and you can’t even give it away without someone to hold it for you. That kind of giving is a shade of desperate, forced vulnerability. And it’s not healthy.

Sex isn’t hard to find. I could have it tonight, if I were set on finding it. But it would only leave me desperately vulnerable.

Intimacy is a gift. It’s a recipe of knowing, learning, remembering, falling, catching, and keeping. That is what I miss.

I think we each have a limited number of intimacy dollars to spend before they’re gone, before we have nothing left to spend, nothing left to give when we would most like to make a sizeable investment in one person.

I’ve made a few mistakes in the last four years, mistaking counterfeit dollars for the real thing. These choices only left me feeling spent, broken hearted, and desperately vulnerable. If the price is low, then the goods aren’t worth much.

I’m waiting for – and counting on – the man out there who believes sex is far more valuable than the cost of the dinner date (or two or three), the man who believes intimacy is a priceless, forever exchange.

Sex isn’t intimacy. And I’m not willing to sacrifice one for the other. It would cost too much. It would steal from what I had with Robb, from what I will have again.

Do I miss sex? Yes. Quite muchly.  (I just cleared my throat and shook my head, an indication of just how quite muchly.)

But more than that, I miss intimacy.

So, I guess you could say, I’m saving up.

%d bloggers like this: