Ace in the Hole

So,

I am a lack,

a space without meaning,

where SEX,

this imperative part of our species,

forgot to manifest.

So,

I am broken,

the magazines and toy ads say,

SEX,

is always fun

Sex,

is always wanted.

You are supposed

to love this.

What's wrong with you?

So,

I popped the estrogen that was supposed to make me horny.

I talked to the therapists who looked upon my trauma and claimed to find an origin.

I went to the GYNO who told me to just relax.

And in every place I searched,

I only found confirmation of my lack.

So,

In hopes of finding love,

in hopes of being normal,

I pulled a man close,

listened to the pills and the professionals,

caved in and rolled my hips,

felt the empty spaces of me fill

with him

with this thing I'm supposed to want.

With this thing everybody needs.

And pretended to want it

as I bit down on my lip

and tried not to scream.

So,

I believed in compulsory sexuality,

no diversity,

just SEX,

the way I was supposed to want it

submissive and vanilla and clean

until the pain of my true self screamed

in torment

not of discomfort but of

her loss.

So,

I waited until their pants were pulled on

and walking out the door,

in disappointment at my lackluster consent,

feeling the weight of failure to achieve that thing called connection,

to cry into my soiled pillow

and wonder

and wonder

and wonder,

why did this natural thing

feel so unnatural to me?

Why me?

Why am I so different?

Why can't I find someone attractive,

someone who is supposed to click?

Someone to prove to me that I am not

broken.

Or that there are fundamental human needs

that I miss.

It was years of this.

Unwilling consent and

confusion.

Pain in my pelvis

from pushing too hard.

And watching,

as man after man

scoffed at my prudeness

and walked out the door.

But now,

years of searching and pleading

to be myself without fear,

led to the true meaning of desire

which, despite what the songs and movies say,

is not SEX.

But liberation.

It's the knowledge that choice is the definition of freedom

and love comes in many forms.

It's the relief of my words being heard by a lover who cares to know my inner world.

It's the knowledge that desiring SEX, is neither wrong nor right.

That each of us carries within us KINK and AFFECTIONS,

that are deserving to be explored.

It's the release of that desperation

of wanting to want more.

I am asexual.

I am not broken.

I am whole.

And there is nothing within me

that is missing.