Things gone missing

photo: http://no-sword.jp/

This morning, I received this response in my inbox regarding Wednesday’s post from Dr. Sex:

That was the best advice I’ve read about ANYTHING, in a long fucking time!  Awesome and so, so, SO TRUE!

I do know this about myself.  My desire for women usually comes when I’m feeling unfulfilled with men, but I’m pretty darned sure it’s more about me.  Being with women makes me feel powerful in a different way than when I’m with men.  I know I’m made to get a man off, but to get a woman off requires more, a lot more.  I’m sure there’s deep-seated stuff there that I may never recognize, but at least now I know it’s more than just a sex thing.

My reply:

I have to agree, Dr. Sex’s response made me think a lot about what it is I’m truly frustrated with; do I feel my marriage is falling apart because we don’t have the passion we once had in the sack, or do I only think it’s falling apart because there’s something that’s fallen apart inside me?

I know for me, one of the things that’s seemed to gone missing is my fast-moving, risk-taking, adrenaline-seeking activities, which have always somehow been tied to sex. For a long time it was easy to feed that because I was single, and either flying airplanes, or in a different city almost every week for my corporate job. I had this standard modus operandi: Go somewhere I’ve never been, talk to someone new (and especially someone that looked like a good challenge), and use my cunning to do something maybe I’ve never done before. Even though after six or seven years I thought I was done with that, had my fill of it, I realize now I kind of miss it. Talk about a power trip; it totally fed my ego to get away with the things I got away with. And you know what? Reading my journals from highschool, I was exactly the same way. Sneaking around, trying something new every weekend, and thinking about what I could do to get some boy interested in me. Ridiculous, but it all gave me a rush.

Now the question is: How do I feed the thrill-seeking adrenaline junkie in me without turning my marriage into an open swinging affair, or having affairs behind my husband’s back?