quotethis_muses | May prompt
Intimacy is what makes a marriage, not a ceremony, not a piece of paper from the state. >> Kathleen Norris
I probably would’ve laughed if, a year ago, someone told me I’d be reliant on Viagra by my twenty-eight birthday. In saying that, though, if someone told me at the same time I’d be married in a year, I could well have laughed even harder. But here I am, most definitely reliant on medication for the most basic of human needs and getting married in three days time.
Holy shit, aye?
As I started to recover from the shooting and they finally discharged me home, physical interactions between Tara and I obviously increased. For one, we were back in our own bed and to say we were both horny was an understatement. By that point, I’d been in the ICU and hooked up to all sorts of uncomfortable machines for over two months, so anything more than a cuddle or kiss was well off the books. But for weeks, no matter how hard I tried, there was just nay action below the belt.
It was around this time that sex started becoming a huge issue. It’s one of those things in life that you just take for granted; you think its always going to be there when you want or need it. Then suddenly it’s gone and everything seems all-encompassing of it. I was frustrated because it was nay happening, Tara was frustrated because I was getting upset over it, and we were both so goddamn horny it wasnae funny. See, that’s a myth too. Just because things arenae rising to the occasion, doesnae mean the want and feelings associated with it stop. I wanted more than anything to be able to make love to my fiancée for the first time in months, but it just wasnae happening, no matter how hard I tried.
And that’s when cracks started to form. We started to become snappy at each other now and again. I was upset, feeling depressed, feeling like a failure because not only could I not give her a baby, I couldnae even manage to have sex with her. We tried to keep the intimacy there in other ways, but it wasnae the same. It was at this point I realised that sex wasnae just sex anymore; it was that deep physical connection with your partner and the ultimate way to express your pleasure of each other.
And for us, it was gone.
I know, all very deep and meaningful and if I’d read this in a book prior to the shooting, I would’ve snorted pessimistically. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in romance and happiness with the right person, and I’ve always believed sex with the right person is more than just getting off and having fun. But I’ve never realised before now how much that connection with your love is needed. I guess it’s that whole debate over sex versus making love. Making love - it’s a working process you have to keep doing regularly to keep the love fresh. It’s nay something like buying a car that you just do once and it keeps you going for a few years.
It’s nay evident whether my problem is entirely psychological from the trauma of the shooting or a mix of psychological and physical linked to the surgery damage that caused the infertility. Time will tell. But either way, it was obvious once Tara and I stopped making love, things were just more distant between us than they ever had been. And I was the cause of that distance. I was stubborn and determined to make it work without needing the pills, completely writing off the fact it was a medical condition that needed treating. I’m a prime example of the notion that when a doctor becomes a patient, they cannae treat themselves. All rationality went out the window in favour of me not wanting to admit I just might not be able to get on without the medication for the time being. It put a gap between us. It made sex a chore and therefore made our physical connection a chore. The few times I managed to get some sort of result, I spent the whole time concentrating on not losing the momentum and forgot to focus on Tara and in turn, causing her to become anxious about my anxiety. The intimacy, the fun, and the connection was gone in favour of counting seconds and pleading in my brain to keep going. What an effing disaster. There was nothing romantic or intimate about it.
I finally did come to the realisation of what I was doing, and I realised I needed the treatment. I realised that I wasnae failing her as her husband-to-be by needing Viagra, I was failing her by not doing what I needed to fix the problem. And despite feeling somewhat like a born-again virgin or on the road to becoming a Monk at one point there, and despite both of us breaking into uncontrollable fits of laughter at my awe that I was finally physically aroused again with the aid of the meds, it was fantastic and we re-connected and spent hours doing so.
Any two people can get married in a ceremony and sign a marriage certificate, but its nay a union until you can truly say that you’ve intimately been one and the same, and as often as you can bloody manage it. Sex is great, but making love with someone you just cannae get enough of is one of the best feelings in the world.
Muse | Dr Lachlan Campbell
Fandom | House, M.D. (Original Character)
Word Count | 914
I probably would’ve laughed if, a year ago, someone told me I’d be reliant on Viagra by my twenty-eight birthday. In saying that, though, if someone told me at the same time I’d be married in a year, I could well have laughed even harder. But here I am, most definitely reliant on medication for the most basic of human needs and getting married in three days time.
Holy shit, aye?
As I started to recover from the shooting and they finally discharged me home, physical interactions between Tara and I obviously increased. For one, we were back in our own bed and to say we were both horny was an understatement. By that point, I’d been in the ICU and hooked up to all sorts of uncomfortable machines for over two months, so anything more than a cuddle or kiss was well off the books. But for weeks, no matter how hard I tried, there was just nay action below the belt.
It was around this time that sex started becoming a huge issue. It’s one of those things in life that you just take for granted; you think its always going to be there when you want or need it. Then suddenly it’s gone and everything seems all-encompassing of it. I was frustrated because it was nay happening, Tara was frustrated because I was getting upset over it, and we were both so goddamn horny it wasnae funny. See, that’s a myth too. Just because things arenae rising to the occasion, doesnae mean the want and feelings associated with it stop. I wanted more than anything to be able to make love to my fiancée for the first time in months, but it just wasnae happening, no matter how hard I tried.
And that’s when cracks started to form. We started to become snappy at each other now and again. I was upset, feeling depressed, feeling like a failure because not only could I not give her a baby, I couldnae even manage to have sex with her. We tried to keep the intimacy there in other ways, but it wasnae the same. It was at this point I realised that sex wasnae just sex anymore; it was that deep physical connection with your partner and the ultimate way to express your pleasure of each other.
And for us, it was gone.
I know, all very deep and meaningful and if I’d read this in a book prior to the shooting, I would’ve snorted pessimistically. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in romance and happiness with the right person, and I’ve always believed sex with the right person is more than just getting off and having fun. But I’ve never realised before now how much that connection with your love is needed. I guess it’s that whole debate over sex versus making love. Making love - it’s a working process you have to keep doing regularly to keep the love fresh. It’s nay something like buying a car that you just do once and it keeps you going for a few years.
It’s nay evident whether my problem is entirely psychological from the trauma of the shooting or a mix of psychological and physical linked to the surgery damage that caused the infertility. Time will tell. But either way, it was obvious once Tara and I stopped making love, things were just more distant between us than they ever had been. And I was the cause of that distance. I was stubborn and determined to make it work without needing the pills, completely writing off the fact it was a medical condition that needed treating. I’m a prime example of the notion that when a doctor becomes a patient, they cannae treat themselves. All rationality went out the window in favour of me not wanting to admit I just might not be able to get on without the medication for the time being. It put a gap between us. It made sex a chore and therefore made our physical connection a chore. The few times I managed to get some sort of result, I spent the whole time concentrating on not losing the momentum and forgot to focus on Tara and in turn, causing her to become anxious about my anxiety. The intimacy, the fun, and the connection was gone in favour of counting seconds and pleading in my brain to keep going. What an effing disaster. There was nothing romantic or intimate about it.
I finally did come to the realisation of what I was doing, and I realised I needed the treatment. I realised that I wasnae failing her as her husband-to-be by needing Viagra, I was failing her by not doing what I needed to fix the problem. And despite feeling somewhat like a born-again virgin or on the road to becoming a Monk at one point there, and despite both of us breaking into uncontrollable fits of laughter at my awe that I was finally physically aroused again with the aid of the meds, it was fantastic and we re-connected and spent hours doing so.
Any two people can get married in a ceremony and sign a marriage certificate, but its nay a union until you can truly say that you’ve intimately been one and the same, and as often as you can bloody manage it. Sex is great, but making love with someone you just cannae get enough of is one of the best feelings in the world.
Muse | Dr Lachlan Campbell
Fandom | House, M.D. (Original Character)
Word Count | 914