What about sex?

I’ve been feeling very optimistic about everything the last few days. I am less overwhelmed and have entered into a phase of calm. Slowly the kitchen has become less. Slowly the bathroom has become less. I’ve just put aside more things for donation and a new batch of items to bring to Carty House, which include cleaning supplies that I had forgotten about. I had actually started cleaning with vinegar and baking soda years ago, but felt the need to hang on to these cleaning products thinking I would one day use them.

And this is part of what I am going through. Letting go.

Over the last few weeks I have worked on the kitchen, bathroom and my closet slowly. I go through everything, stare at things for a long time and reminisce and then say “I can’t let go of this yet.” Then, I’ll come back again the next day, do the same thing and for some reason that day I’ll be ready. Into the box to give away. The bathroom, it took me two days to convince myself I won’t be using nail polish again and that I don’t need creams, lotions, bubble bath and so much make-up. The make-up process is taking time only because I’m attached to the idea that it brings me work. And creativity.

I do have a really awesome idea that I plan to do with all of my make-up. It’s going to be a Love Project.

But letting go is what I’m practicing.

This isn’t foreign to me. I’ve done this multiple times over my 29 moves. But this time it is so much more exciting because I know I won’t be buying anything to replace it. I won’t be accepting any “things” into my home.

I feel like this whole process feels spiritual in a way. I move slower. Even my mind feels clearer.

I feel like I know how I’m going to handle this. Or I did.

Until today I opened my bedside drawer and saw condoms. What the fuck am I going to do with these? That’s how long it has been since I’ve had sex, I forgot I even had condoms. I am not in a relationship right now. Nor do I plan to be anytime soon, but the question hit me like a ton of bricks. What about sex? Condoms come in boxes, wrapped in some plastic thingy and are made of latex. Garbage!

I sure as hell am not going to go on birth control and I sure as hell am not going to go raw with anyone, especially with someone who I am not in a relationship with. And if I’m in a relationship with someone, this person will know my crazy lifestyle and won’t even think twice about bringing home a box of condoms.

So the only solution is to become a nun.

No just kidding, but I will probably never have sex again until the “right one” comes. Whatever that means. But it’s a blessing in disguise to go celibate because I have one less thing to distract me and because even though it’s been a while and it will be a long while more, it will mean more when the time comes.

Hopefully it comes. Haha.