Every now and again, when my life gets a little too much for me to handle, I sink into sex.
This doesn't mean that I have sex. When I have sex, I'm sharing sex with another person (and, I suppose, those who read my blog, should I care to share the gory details in this space). Nor am I talking about having sex with myself - although I do suppose that's part of it, to an extent. What I mean is, when I sink into sex, I just... escape.
It's not like I sit around for hours, lost in glorious visions and imaginings. But this is more than just the fleeting thought of sex that I'm meant to be having every six seconds. It's the action of losing myself so completely in something sex-related that everything else becomes secondary. Faded. No longer relevant.
At university, to escape, I used to visit sex chatrooms. It seems like a bit of an overly geeky thing to do, and even has something of a darker overtone than it should - but, of course, not everyone in that sort of room is a creepy old man in an anorak. I rarely even had cybersex myself - just sank into that community: constantly shifting, with users coming and going, but people always there, always turning up, all united by a love of sex. It was an escape.
I suppose we all have the same things - like getting yourself stuck in a good book or tuning into beautiful music and ignoring everything else. It's very soothing. For me, the fact that what I was doing was sexual made it more exciting. More illicit. It was my little secret. Special to me.
Now, there's the same need. I can get lost in an erotic film, in a lusty dream, reading a raunchy book or even just flicking through the first issue of Sex Criminals. I can read through things I've written - or things other people have. I can easily spend inordinate amounts of time zipping through the sex blogosphere like a virtual ninja.
And the fondest memories I have always involve this window open, where I'm tapping out stuff to post on my blog. Maybe with a cup of tea in hand and a convection heater to my left, while it's cold and brisk outside. A warm, safe sanctuary where, once again, I just get lost in sex.
Sex is not something to be feared. It should be loved, cherished, celebrated. But, in some ways, sex is also my secret world - where I can go to just hover surrounded by things that please and excite and interest me.
And I suppose we all need that kind of escape. I just chose sex.