Rough Draft

To brooke skye, whom I love,



I’m past most of the anger now, so I thought maybe it would be a good time to put my thoughts into words. “You were angry?” you ask. Oh, fuck yeah, I was angry. Every time I bring up the subject, you make me feel guilty for having sexual feelings, or for “pressuring” you. Honestly, how many husbands do you think would go two fucking years like this? You keep saying you’re a bad wife, I’m going to cheat on you, I’m going to leave you, I need someone younger, maybe we’re not right for each other. It’s like you’re trying to create a self-fulfilling prophecy. Or maybe you’re just testing me. How devoted I am to you. How much I will take. How much I CAN take. My love, you haven’t grasped that I don’t want to cheat on you, I don’t want to leave you. Has it not occurred to you that if I wanted to, I would have by now?



But I can’t go on like this forever. I am a sexual being. I spent my life denying it, due to catholic guilt, a factor that I’m certain has affected my performance problems. I try to get past that, try to explore the sexual being I am, and then I have you making me feel guilty, making me hide my sexuality like I did my whole life. My whole, sexually empty life. Honestly, how fair do you think that is to me? I feel like I have a lifetime of sexual exploration to make up for, but instead I end up feeling like less than a man, constantly rejected by the one person I counted on to explore not just my sexuality, but raven riley as well. Together.



I know you say, “We did something last week, and I didn’t complain.” Didn’t complain? Oh, yeah, that really turns me on. The time before that when I tried something, I said, “Do you want to have sex?” and you said, “I guess so.” Yeah, you’ll “let” me do things, but as I keep trying to tell you, it isn’t about me. It’s about wanting to be a part of your passion, of your lust. “I guess so” doesn’t feel very lustful. I know you don’t feel lust, and maybe you never did, but at least you used to make the effort to fake it for me. Whatever the issue is there, we need to work on it. Together.



I have problems, honey. I know I do. But your constant denial of several things is only making it impossible for both of us to thrive in a passionate, sexual relationship. You keep claiming “menopause”, but this stuff started long before that. First off, I know you don’t want to hurt my feelings, or make me feel more pressure of responsibility, but I know perfectly well that a huge part of your problem is my inability to perform. You keep denying it, but honey, I’m not that stupid, and you’re not that good of a liar. How can my failure to keep an erection not make you feel like you’re somehow responsible? Rather than deny it, let’s just accept it, and work on it from there. Work on your feelings, and my erection problems. Together. Then there’s the simple fact that I was/am a horrible lover. I had passion (though my main passion seems to be for something that makes you uncomfortable), but I was boring, repetitive, and obviously my erection problems didn’t help. Sweetheart, it’s okay to acknowledge that. Then you can start showing me what you like, what you want, what feels good. Mostly, you need to allow me to please you. Also, there are all these other things, like the fact that you don’t masturbate, or that you’ve told me that you don’t have sexual fantasies, or how you constantly say it’s “gross” when I cum, or it’s “gross” when I want to lick you, or worst of all, you have literally stopped me from making you cum because you were scared that you were coming too hard. And I’m not supposed to think that you feel sex is dirty? We both have problems letting go. We need to get to the point where we trust each other enough to let go together. Sex is not dirty, it’s not wrong. Or if it is, who gives a fuck? We need to be wrong together, let go together, live in our lust and forget about right and wrong and guilt. Together.



As for stress and pressure, do you think that every couple who is in financial ruin never has romantic time together? Love, lust, romance, sex are ways to escape that stress, to not think about it for awhile, and just revel in our feelings of pleasure. I say something as simple as “we need to make out more”. Just make out. And what do you say? “I’m wondering how we’re going to eat, and all my husband can think about is making out.” What the fuck is that? You ask if it doesn’t bother me that we have no money to survive on, well yes, it bothers me. But I said it last night: That doesn’t mean that the rest of our lives stops. It can’t. We can’t live every second dwelling on the fact that we’re broke. We need romance, a date night, hot sweaty sex, if only to relieve ourselves of our troubles for a while.



I’m not trying to place the blame on you. We view things differently in many ways, especially the way we deal with stress. Clearly your problems are connected to my problems anyway. The difference between us is that I want to work on it, and you would rather ignore it. I've looked into trying to understand my erection problems, and the causes, and potential solutions. I’ve stopped masturbating, one of my very few pleasures in life, because I want to see if that will help with our sexual life together. But we need a sexual life. You say you feel pressured, when all of this time I’ve been trying not to pressure you. How often do I even bring it up? I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do. I’ve been waiting for you to come to me. I want you to want me. I want to live in passion and lust and escapism, together.



I don’t know. I look at what I’ve written, and I know it’s going to hurt you. I’ve been tying to avoid this, because I don’t want to hurt you. But you don’t seem to grasp how this is hurting me. You don’t seem to understand that sex is all I can think about, because I can’t have it. Whether it’s because you deny me, or because my cock is broken. But I see so many people having a happy, loving sexually adventurous life, and I feel I’ve missed out on so much. And all I know is that whatever problems we have together, need to be worked on together, honestly, and not ignored. If you feel sex is dirty, then that is where we need to start. If my inability to perform makes you feel undesirable, we need to acknowledge that, because that is what is leading to your lack of libido. And if it is something as simple as menopause, we need to look into drugs that will balance your hormone levels, or whatever needs to be done. Finally, if your sex drive is simply gone, then you’re simply going to have to indulge me, and let me please you as best I can. I don’t know if that will work, because what I really want is to be a part of your sexuality, and if there is nothing there, then we really have a problem.


Most of all, you need to understand that I love you, but this unfulfilled lust I have is killing me. Maybe it’s wrong to put such emphasis on sex, but I can’t hide my sexuality anymore. I want to share it with you. And I want you to share yours with me. Is that really too much to ask?


No, I haven't shown it to her yet. We had a nother talk last night, and this letter is the result of my frustration at that talk. Comments and suggestions are welcome, before my final draft goes to print.