The Difference Between Sex & Love

My yesterday was pretty amazing; I spent it with a budding friend, in her extremely cool house, chatting with her hot roommate. But the after math of an emotional break through I had has given me a headache all day. So maybe if I write about it, the headache will go away.

One of my friends is in an open relationship. I understood what the situation meant to this person and their SO, but I could never understand it for myself. I have always linked sex to emotions, unfortunately imposing tons of heart ache on myself. I didn't loose my virginity until I was 22, and to a person who didn't deserve it, but in my mind we were in love. Once he was gone, I used sex as a weapon against him. I had rebound flings with two different men, never actually enjoying either encounter.

Now I'm in a stable, long term relationship with a sweet man. And, after three years, I think we are in a good place.

But lately something has been bugging me. I had a few incredibly honest conversations with a coworker some time ago. But, it wasn't until a few days ago, that I wondered if we had been flirting. This bugged me enough to get me to ask said coworker as much. This person did not believe we were flirting, just brutally honest about the topics, which were sexual. And, as my blossoming friend pointed out, lots of conversations end up around sex.

However, even with the flirtation a non-issue, the crux of my breakthrough still remained. I am highly attracted to my coworker, but have no romantic feelings towards him at all. This was the first time, to my knowledge, I have completely stripped emotions out of sex. Having held this as a belief, and then having it disproved by a life experience, has sent my head spinning.

Also, it left me with a question: should I approach my SO with this breakthrough? The short answer is yes. I should talk to my SO about it. My psychologist encourages me to talk with my SO about any and everything. She feels I should never inhibit my thoughts, especially since I have the tendency to let them eat away at me until they burst out, usually causing damage and a round of apologies on my part.

But now that I know I won't be having sex with my coworker, is it really worth it to ask my SO about sleeping with other people? We have brokered the subject when it came to other women. My SO knows I'm bisexual and indeed has encouraged me in the pursuit of female affection. But, even with this admission, I feel bringing up the subject of other men is precarious. The last thing I want to do is to emasculate him, or make him feel like he isn't good enough. That is not what I'm saying, at all.

Instead, it is a curiosity that's sparked in me. I want to know what it feels like to sleep with other men. I've had four male sexual partners and one female. He's had more, much more. And there is a part of me that wants to see what so many other bodies feel like, against mine, in mine.

Of course, there is the likelihood this urge will go away. In fact, I know it has only been sparked because of my latest writing, an erotic novel with a strong female lead. I've projected on to her the abilities and prowess I don't feel in myself. She is my surrogate, living the life I know I never will.

And there is the simple fact that I am not a pursuer. The people I have had encounters with, including those that did not end up in sex but were sensual and fulfilling all the same, have never been my prey. They were always the predator. I happened to be in their cross-hairs, ready to be caught. So how am I, assuming I am given blessing by my SO, to pursue my wilds when I lack the self esteem to believe I am attractive enough or the confidence to hunt for my conquests?

So that's where my head is. And, having taken the time to type out my thoughts, I now feel better. But questions, and the quandary, still remain.