Last night, I spent the evening with Sean. He is lovely, and handsome and gentile.
We ended up in bed fooling around. And it was nice, and I came.
But - there is no love there. There is no love in any of these encounters.
I am using sex like a drug... as a way to escape my pain and fear and longing and insecurity.
Sex for me is sacramental, and I feel as if I have taken the wine from the altar, and am desecrating it.
I need to think about this.
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