The conversation went a little something like this

I know I seem to have fallen off the grid.  But it's damn hard to write about sex when you aren't having any.  Finally, I had to address the glowing neon pink elephant in the room.

me: Is it me?  Are you not attracted to me anymore?

man: No.  We just have a lot going on right now.  Sex isn't on my mind.

me: *sigh*

man: I've gone as long as six or eight months without sex when I've been going through changes.

I must have looked really alarmed at this point.  I remember letting my head hit the door frame as I leaned against it.  And I'm pretty sure there was more sighing and my eyes may have even filled with tears.

man: I'm not saying we will go six or eight months.

me: I can't do it.  Two weeks is about my limit.

man: I know.  You were masturbating last night.

me: What would you like me to do?  I can't go that long.

Seriously, I can't.  That was about my breaking point.  And he loves when I masturbate in front of him, so I suppose I was secretly hoping that it would turn him on, spur him to action.  No such luck.  In fact, he was annoyed so I had to take it to the living room.

man: It will get better.  Give me time to adjust.

I'm giving him time.  All I ever do is give him time.  It's the story of my life.  Being with him has been this amazing practice in patience.  And I worry that one of these days I'm going to tire of it and move on.  And I suppose I also worry that I won't.  I worry that I'll stay longer than I should, that I'll hold on when I should let go.

But I'm here now.  And I'm making the best of it...even if I do run out of things to write about.