I don’t just mean in terms of not having someone to cuddle with when I want, or not being able to feel physically present even when I’m touching someone else. What I mean is that I can never completely count on anyone else to be there for me if/when I need them. Oh, I have friends, and they tell me that they support me and that they’re here for me, but they can’t completely be. They’re sexual.
One night, I was lying in bed unable to sleep. It was 4am and I was scared. I was thinking about life, and people, and why people do bad things. I was thinking about corruption, about how it seems that at some point everyone has to kill a little bit of their humanity in order to go on living. Whether that means dulling your feelings so that pain won’t keep you from doing the things you need to do, or cutting off empathy so that you can continue to live without always worrying about others and the consequences of your actions, there are so many ways we are expected to give up bits of ourselves, and it’s scary to think of how completely Not-Ourselves we’ll be when it’s finally time for us to die. I was wondering if it was possible for me to live without giving up my humanity, and if I could live an entire life without harming others, unintentionally or not, or if it would be better to just kill myself before becoming corrupted along with everybody else. I don’t like thinking about suicide, because I always know that it isn’t actually a viable option for me, and it leads me to thinking about One, and how much better things would be if he were here instead of me. When I think about that, I’m always afraid that I’ll start hearing voices, either his or someone else’s.
I didn’t want to go through that. I didn’t want to think, or hear anything, or move. I was lying paralyzed. I managed to move enough to find my phone and turn it on. I was going to call my friend.
This was the first time in a long time that I had tried to call someone when I was scared. I knew that he would be up, and I knew that he would be able to talk me through it. Did I really want to bother him, though? It wouldn’t be bothering him. He’d told me earlier in the week that it would bother him more if I didn’t tell him when things were upsetting me, and that I shouldn’t worry about how he would react to what I said. So it was only with slight trepidation that I called.
“Hello?” He’d picked up! Was I imagining things? Would my voice work? Would he know that I was crying? “Hello…?” he was saying. I forced myself to speak.
“Hi,” I told him, trying to make my mouth form the words around my tears. They were slipping all over the place, and it felt like my face was numb. “How are you?”
“I’m good; what’s up?” he asked.
“I can’t sleep,” I told him slowly. “I can’t sleep and I’m really scared.” This was it.
“Yeahhh,” he said. “I can’t really talk right now.” What?
“Oh,” I said. “Oh- oh- oh- oh — okay” I finally managed to choke out. A sad laugh shot out of me as I realized that he was with a girl.
“Yeahhh,” he repeated. “Is there someone else you can call?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “Have a good night.”
When I saw him the next day, I asked him how his night had been.
“It was okay,” he said. “Not much happened. We just watched a movie.”
They’d been watching a movie, while I was crying. I knew that I couldn’t really be mad at him, because as a sexual person, he was simply going after what I couldn’t have: closeness. I was only his friend; not someone he wanted to sleep with. My friends aren’t assholes. They care about the people they want any sort of relationship with, and they understand that they need to put in time with the people they want to be with. That means that they can’t really have time for me.
That’s great for them. It means that they’ll probably have successful relationships, and the people they’re with will be happy. But what happens when you have no one? I have nothing to offer sexual people. I’ve been told that I should just give up my body in order to get the closeness I want, but that’s sort of like giving up your humanity in order to keep living. When it comes down to it, I don’t want to do anything with people unless we have some sort of emotional connection. These days, it seems that no one else wants to form emotional connections until they’ve experienced something sexual with you. For me to put myself in a position I don’t want to be in would be like me raping myself. That wouldn’t be good for me, and I know I would only resent the person I was with because of it.
When I look down the line at a life of either loneliness or self-rape, I don’t know. It’s scary. It’s sad. I’m not sure how to fix it.