"I don't really want to talk about that right now." That has been a pretty frequent response these days.
Over the weekend I had no sex drive whatsoever. I watched some porn: xhamster is always my favorite, and I find that I often get turned on by amateur porn. I always think that the best sex is between one and someone he loves, if not for the fact that the subjective experience of love gets you away from all the inhibitions. I have been an avid Internet porn consumer since the early 1990s, when the best you can get is newsgroups. I remember sitting at the computer at my school's computer lab, all the way in the back corner, and looking at these pictures and getting hard. Back in the days they never checked who logged on and when, and I was therefore never reprimanded. My parents later warned me of the dangers of looking up porn at work, as an elderly gentleman got fired at my father's firm for porn hunting with the company's computer.
"They gave him 2 hours to clean out his shit," said my father sternly over a bowl of chilly, "he got two paper boxes."
I remember going to the bathroom at the library, and jerking off furiously fantasizing over the sketchy, evanescent memory of the photos. Sometimes I would have a couple of more elaborate fantasies, stories of pillage and seduction, begging, power struggle, themes and reflections of my deepest insecurities. Coming back to the computer station, I was always flushed and a bit paranoid, wandering, trying to figure out if anyone had figured me out. Nobody had.
D came back last night, and was pretty satisfied that all the housework was done. I cleaned the bathroom and vacuumed. I was allowed back into my bed at night, and the summer has become scorching in my part of the country. The backyard looked parched and I didn't feel like doing anything about it. I mused over the work that needed to be done with the pool and the deck furniture. After dinner, which I cooked out of the ordinary, I poured myself a big glass of whiskey and pulled out a dining room chair to sit outside. I sucked on a cigar for a while. D didn't want to talk so I stayed outside alone and watched the evening sky turned azure, then purple, then tinctured with handful of blinking stars--it was cloudy. My two-year-old toddler briefly waddled out to the pergola and tried to have a conversation with me, but he couldn't get me interested. I wonder how he's doing at daycare. The baby is quiet today. She has always been the good one, and doesn't need nearly as much attention as her brother did at her age. I wanted to take her portable swing out in the backyard but D said it's still too cold at night and she'd catch a draft. I didn't feel like arguing with her. I am not sure what's going on with my marriage. I'm scared that it might be getting close to the end.