Welcome back to Crap Email From A Dude, wherein Jezemeritus Moe and her fellow romantic failure Georgia Cool parse the missives of dudes you are hopefully not still fucking. Today's theme: self-control.
"In retrospect, I don't know why I did this" is what April* had to say about her two-makeout courtship with Todd, a law student whose online dating profile promised he was "very intelligent."Well kids, we can all learn something from this week's constructive edition of Crap Email From A Dude, the theme of which is self-control, which is why we're using a picture of precocious New Yorker writer Jonah Lehrer, because we are trying to exhibit self-control in order to abstain from using the totally obvious joke picture so you guys can have an animated GIF-off in the comments.
If only April had possessed sufficient self-control she most certainly would not have made out with Todd again after the trauma of their first makeout session, during which he came in his pants.
But she did, and that is when she learned the age-old lesson about history repeating itself, especially with regard to guys who come in their pants the first time you make out with them.
Obviously, the whole debacle was April's fault, as no such thing had ever happened to Todd before. Surely the sticking point so to speak was that April was so very "experienced," he explained, and then clarified that what he meant by "experienced" was "promiscuous."
To make matters worse, April, that total whore, started seeing another dude, causing Todd to go a little batshit on the phone, although who can blame him when it was becoming painfully apparent that he had contracted gonorrhea of the throat from April, and the least she could fucking do was get screened for STDs.
She actually did do that,* even though she had never had sex without a condom, because women are pushovers I guess, but her clean bill of health finally drove him away, because he only experiences premature ejaculation when he can fantasize a girl is an actual whore, or something. April did her best to repress the memory.
Four months later she received this thing. Don't judge it by its subject heading, Nabokov invented the emoticon you know, etc. etc.
————— Forwarded message —————
From: Todd Michaels*
Date: Thu, Feb 5, 2009 at 3:31 PM
Subject: Hello :-)
To: April Lee*
Long time no speak. I arrived back in Sydney a few days ago. I wrote this for a friend but thought I should send it to you just to get a different opinion on things (other than my own).
P.S. Let me know if you want to catch up
Chocolate and why sex with no strings doesn't work.
The intricate relationship between sex and love.
Sex is a source of pleasure, it makes people happy, similar to chocolate. That said, like sharing a chocolate, a large part of the enjoyment is seeing someone else happy. When people engage in sexual intercourse without intimacy it is like eating only chocolate. It start with a good feeling but afterwards it makes us feel sick afterwards.
Before I broke the rules I could not understand why I could not eat chocolate all day. What could be wrong with something that tastes good and it fills me up. The problem is we can't just survive on chocolate. Just as we can't just survive on sex. Our sex drive is linked to our need for intimacy and close relationships with others. If we don't respect these rules then when we have sex with someone we are intimate with it loses its meaning. The meaning is hard to distil down, but it is essence can be explained by looking at the difference between a kiss that arouses us and kiss that sends electric sparks down our spine and makes our heart tremble. Both can be physically identical in yet the meaning we assign to it is entirely different. Analogous to the difference between being given a piece of chocolate versus working all day for a piece of chocolate. Same chocolate, different value. The piece of chocolate that we have worked for tastes so much better.
Counter intuitively, sex without intimacy is worse than no sex and no intimacy. This bad taste is as natural to me as it would be for me to dislike chocolate without cocoa. I am not sure if it is nature or nurture but one can't properly enjoy one without the other.
Wanting sex and actually having sex are two entirely different thing. It is the difference between looking at chocolate in a shop window and breaking our diet and scoffing down a chocolate bar. We are pre-programmed to crave the chocolate however we also have certain rules about when we actually eat chocolate. Same with sex we all want it but there are only particular circumstances in which we would have it. These rules may seem arbitrary but they do service a number of useful functions including:
· Keeping us safe from STDs
· Creating good DNA matches
· Stopping us forming unhealthy relationships
At its simplest, these rules stop us making decision we might regret later. Sexual activity puts us in an extremely vulnerable position, mentally and physically. Though we are not normally aware of what the rules are we can feel it when we break them.
In a sentence, sex should not be an activity undertaken simply because we want it.
More "self-control" tips for next time: even if you live someplace like Australia with socialized health care, as April does, resist the urge to get tested for STDs on the recommendation of some lunatic you never actually fucked. In fact, even if you did used to fuck him, and you never thought of him as being totally insane, if a dude asks you to go to the doctor to get tested for an imaginary STD he thinks he has but can't be bothered to check out himself, it is a good chance to turn his perverse guilt trip around on him and remind him that if he has symptoms and you don't, he almost assuredly got it from some other woan, dissipated pussy glutton that he is, and he can forget about boning you again until he is ready to fill a Cipro prescription and pick up your Nuva Ring at the drugstore while he is at it, because you did not as an average girl already wasted like 87 times more time and money on sundry health care bullshit than the average dude attending to the continued viability of your reproductive system because it was so totally worth it to spend your twenties having flings with shitheads like him.
This has not even actually happened to me, I am just saying. I could perhaps be getting PMS.
*Names have been changed.