I wrote this after reading Lauren's journal. Now that's good reading!

First I thought: "Clever girl."

But I thought it the way that guy in Jurassic Park said it right after he realized he'd been ambushed and right before his face got bitten off.

My face is still intact, which is a good thing because I need my face to look foolish. But as I was saying, my first thought was "Clever girl." My second, third, and then strangely concurrent thoughts were these:

I understand not wanting to have sex. Well, no I don't. (Don't judge me yet.) I understand to wanting to have sex in the way that I understand not wanting to kiss or hug or shake hands. Physically, the greatest difference between these types of contact and actual sexual intercourse is the amount of fluids and possibly genetic material exchanged (I said don't judge me yet!) Hugging, kissing, shaking hands, and having sex are types of physical contact that appropriately express particular feelings and thoughts that are unique to the people interacting.

I like to hug. I hug everyone and everything. I am a hug-whore. Of course each hug is unique. If you come enter a room and I hug you it means I like you. If you enter a room and I run across the room elbowing whoever is in my way, it means I really like you. And if for some reason you enter a room and are covered from head-to-toe in dripping, stinking, freezing, mud and I still run across the room to hug you then I must be just about in love with you. But however you look at it, it's a physical expression of how I feel.

That is why I can't understand not wanting to hug. And accordingly, I can't understand not wanting to have sex.

Personally, I don't think sex is important. Neither are hugs or handshakes. It is possible to let others know that you care for them, enjoy their company, are glad to see them or sorry to see them go, want them to feel better, missed them; that you trust them. I mean, hell, you can just tell them. But physical contact is a much more eloquent way of doing so. I think so, anyway.

I have never had sex and gotten something out of it that wasn't there before. But on more than one occasion I have found the opposite to be true and I have been left with a feeling of hollowness, of trying to experience something, an emotion or a connection, that should have already been there. It is not a feeling I enjoy.

Would I love and live with somebody for the rest of my life even if for whatever reason we couldn't have sex?

Yes.

...But I would still be able to hug her, right?

*In response to Beno's comment: A good point, but I realize I forgot to make mine. Sex is a reflection of your own values, what you think is important, and what you think will make you happy. Just like everything else people do.