A World Without Sex
Quite some time ago, I had a conversation with a friend who mentioned something along the lines of: “I hate knowing that my friends have sex, because then every time see them I picture them having sex.”
I don’t remember the context of this conversation, exactly, but for some reason this quote popped into my head yesterday. I couldn’t wrap my head around it, because I think in a somewhat opposite manner to this friend.
While she, apparently, sees sex everywhere she looks, I do not. Unless they actually talk about their sex lives, I assume that my friends don’t have sex. Ever. Even if they’re in a romantic relationship.
It’s completely irrational, of course, but in my mind the only sex that happens outside of porn is the sex that I’m having. Everyone else on Earth is asexual.
It’s not that I’m a prude. And, obviously, I realize that lots of people are having sex even as I write this. But, the idea that my friends have sex is one that never crosses my mind. Even if they explicitly describe a rendezvous with a stranger they brought home from the bar, I don’t picture them having sex. It’s an interesting story, nothing more.
I wonder who else thinks like I do. And I wonder who else thinks like my friend does. Maybe we’re both oddities, and everyone else in the world is somewhere in the middle.
