I've been seeking words to articulate the evaporation of my libido. This is hard, because I don't know whether any of my friends share the experience, and I feel isolated by it. Last month I said half-jokingly to a lesbian writer friend that I was considering coming out as asexual. She guffawed and asked when I had last had sex. It had been two weeks.
It's not that I am celibate, or want to be. I haven't lost my attraction to men. It's just that the labours of sex and the pleasure of orgasm—heaven knows I've frequently been subject to the most intense ectstasy—are losing their appeal. It's possibly an effect of ageing. I've considered the possibility some kind of therapy might alter this course. Testosterone even?
I doubt that would make me happier, and it runs against whatever natural process is at work. I abhor the widespread quest for an elixir of youth. I prefer to take root in whatever I am, rather than conforming to the usual expectations.
Meanwhile I appreciate the freedom to turn more energy to creative pursuits. A weekend alone at home seems more like a gift, and I don't feel impoverished by the lack of sex.
This does not reflect negatively on my relationship with Danny. He has been the perfect lover, allowing me the freedom to be who I am.
But I have qualms about continuing to live on my own, and I fear that sex is the biggest bargaining chip for a relationship with a man. Among bears it is practically a social currency, and I am still enamoured of bears.
I crave affection, intimacy, tenderness, attention, beauty and appreciation. I remain polyamorous, though my understanding of the idea has long been unusual. I want emotional freedom more than a sexual banquet. I revel in chemistry, honour, passion, knowing and being known, touch, sense, strength, vulnerability, challenge. I will plunge into the arena of verbal, emotional and physical intercourse, when it is open to me.
Sometimes I even still like sex, especially as a repercussion when two souls happily collide and find themselves naked together, but that is rare, and must not be required.
So I'm not exactly asexual, but verging on it, another oddball identity.