Saturday, 31 July 2010

Alcohol, Teenage Crushes and I Am Morose

I'm at work so it's usually a day for writing but I don't feel sexy. I'm hungover instead. It's unusual. I drink very little and I hate being hungover. I feel pathetic and morose. Even a small amount of work today feels onerous.

Alcohol and sex for me are associated only because the chance of one happening may be boosted by the presence of the other. I've never had good drunk sex. I've had chaotic drunken sex, where you grapple and trampoline off each other. As you sober up second thoughts creep in. You feel physically and spiritually seedy.

Recently a commenter on one of the New York sex diaries I've been reading expressed his disbelief that the female diarist had been too drunk to come. He suspected her of being a man in disguise; I bet all his girlfriends are multi-orgasmic.

I have never had a drunken orgasm but many of my early sexual experiences wouldn't have happened without alcohol. I was shy. My self-esteem was probably within normal range for a teenager, for which read unbelievably low. From 14 to 18 fancying someone was a miserable experience. I was ashamed to admit crushes to myself. I knew they were doomed. I would hold them in and feel relieved when they went away. If anyone fancied me I thought they were an idiot. If you feel like that about yourself it makes sense to make popstars and actors the object of your desires.

I asked Virgil how he felt as a teenager when he fancied someone.

"Like I couldn't have them," he replied.

I fell in love for the first time when I was 16 and lacked self-esteem. I remember the moment exactly. It was a wonderful and dreadful feeling, like the birth of a crush times a thousand, or falling into a Black Hole. I knew at once that it would not be a happy experience. My love was unrequited and it cast a long shadow. It took me over a decade to feel free of it and another decade to truly fall in love again.

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