Sometimes I think I’m obsessed with someone just because they’re really good in bed.

Is that a bad thing to say? I can become so obsessed with someone simply because they know how to fuck.

I love good sex. I know my worth, but somehow, I always end up in this mess.

I love sex. Getting fucked. Being desired. Getting eaten out. Whatever you want to call it. And honestly… some people are just really good at it.

Sometimes I catch myself fantasizing about them at the office. Halfway through replying to an email, my mind wanders somewhere it definitely shouldn’t.

And it’s not even like I’m sitting there intentionally trying to think about them. The thought just fucking appears.

I could be doing the most normal thing ever and suddenly there they are in my head again.

Like, can I live? Can I answer one fucking email without my brain reminding me of someone I slept with?

And then I start wondering if I actually miss them or if my body just remembers how good it felt.

Because apparently those are two completely different things and my brain is doing a terrible job of separating them.

Maybe I’m not emotionally attached at all. Maybe my body is just annoyingly nostalgic.

Sometimes I find myself thinking, Do I actually want to see this person again, or do I just want to feel that way again? And honestly, I don’t always know the answer.

Maybe that’s why it’s so confusing.

You can know someone probably isn’t the love of your life and still have your brain randomly bring them up like they’re employee of the fucking month.

Oh no… Maybe I really am losing my mind over a good dick.

Sometimes I get nostalgic thinking about the days when I got eaten by an eater with a beautiful face, the right amount of muscle, and obviously, a nice tongue.

God… It felt so good I swear I could breathe again. Maybe I don’t miss the man. Maybe I just miss being eaten properly.

Even though I know we’ll probably never last… it still feels good. Sometimes people only stay for a night, but somehow live in your head for years.

Maybe that’s the whole point. I don’t really care how long it lasted. I care that we had a good time.

Sometimes the sex is so good that you can’t stop thinking about it for an entire week.

They probably have no idea. Or maybe they do. But they’ll never know just how insane my brain actually gets. Or maybe by now… they probably do.

I’m a very sexual person. I have an incredibly dirty mind. I’m hypersexual.

And lately the more I’ve gotten to know myself, the healthier my sex life has become.

Maybe I’ve had more experience. I’ve learned what I like. I’ve stopped feeling ashamed of this part of myself. I’ve started accepting that this is just who I am.

Of course, sex is still something you have to be careful with. The more I think about it, the more I realize it’s actually kind of risky.

You’re trusting someone with one of the most vulnerable parts of yourself. And with the wrong person, it’ll never feel right.

But maybe that’s exactly why, when it’s good… it’s really good.

I’m grateful I’ve had the chance to learn more about my own body. To use it in a way that feels right for me. To know what I like. How I like it. What makes me feel safe. What doesn’t.

I don’t think we talk enough about that part. We talk so much about sex itself, but not enough about actually getting to know ourselves.

Sex is still kind of a taboo topic in Thailand. Actually… anything remotely sexual still feels a little taboo.

But every time people finally start talking about it, the room somehow gets louder. Everyone suddenly has something to say.

Maybe because we’ve all been pretending we’re not thinking about it.

I don’t know. I just wish it could be a little more playful sometimes. Not everything has to be sexy in this overly serious way.

Sometimes it’s just funny. Sometimes it’s awkward. Sometimes it’s ridiculous.

I think everything can be sexy. Not sexual, necessarily.

Someone can be sexy because they’re passionate about what they’re talking about. Because they’re confident. Because they make you laugh until your stomach hurts.

I don’t immediately want to rip everyone’s clothes off….Okay, maybe some people.

But yeah… when people start talking honestly about sex, people also start talking honestly about themselves.

Maybe because sex is intimate. It lets us know each other in a way we normally don’t.

I once heard someone say that sexual energy is healing energy. Maybe they’re right. When you have sex, your brain literally floods with oxytocin, dopamine, and endorphins.

Of course it makes life feel a little bit better afterward.

Maybe that’s part of why good sex feels so healing.

Not because sex magically fixes your problems, but because for a little while, your body remembers what pleasure feels like instead of survival.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the sex I’ve had in the past. The terrible experiences. Even the ones that weren’t consensual.

As painful as they were, they also taught me what I never wanted again. And because of that, I think I finally understand what good sex actually feels like.

I finally understand why people say good sex can change you.

Sometimes I have to stop myself and think… Wait. This was supposed to be casual.

Why is it this good? Now I can’t stop thinking about it.

I become the person who wants to see them again. The person who gets excited just because they texted. That’s how enthusiastic I am about sex.

It’s honestly kind of crazy what oxytocin, dopamine, and endorphins can do to a person.

But then again… I don’t really believe sex is ever completely casual.

Is it?

You’re seeing someone in one of the most intimate ways possible. You know what their body looks like. Their tattoos. Their scars. The little mole they probably forget they have.

The way they laugh afterward. The way they breathe. The parts of themselves they don’t show anyone else.

Maybe that’s not love. But it’s definitely something.

And I think because I grew up with people lusting after me more than actually getting to know me, I spent a long time confusing obsession with love.

I thought I loved them. Now I realize… I can be obsessed with someone without loving them.

Those aren’t the same thing. Eventually, you come back to your senses.

You learn who’s good for your soul…and who’s only good for your hole.

When you grow up with people wanting your body more than your mind, it messes with the way you understand intimacy.

Love and lust start looking like the same thing. Even though I know the difference now… sometimes they’re still hard to separate. And honestly? I think that’s okay.

I’m learning to balance the freaky part of me with the hopeless romantic part. Turns out they can actually exist together.

I can still believe in love… while enjoying some really good dick from time to time.

I don’t think those two things cancel each other out.

Maybe enjoying one of the most intimate parts of being human isn’t such a bad thing after all. Or… Maybe I’m just losing my mind over a good dick.