If it’s broke…

I’m cranky today. It’s not going to be a good day.

My boyfriends dick doesn’t seem to work and I have no idea what I’m doing wrong. He keeps going limp. It doesn’t seem to matter what I’m doing, or what we’re doing or what he’s doing…what position, what act…he keeps losing his erection. Then he gets miffed and insecure and starts making excuses, blaming himself. But I’m sure it’s me. Something I’m doing or not doing.

I’m just not enough. I’m not good enough. I’m not exciting enough. Not pretty enough. My body doesn’t do it for him.

Normally I’m comforting. It’s no big deal. Hey, it happens. It’s not you, baby. But last night I just wasn’t in that head space. I just wanted to crawl into myself and disappear. I put my hand on his chest and closed my eyes, without hardly a word. He tried to get me to talk. To say SOMETHING. I just whispered goodnight.

I was just so deflated. Here is this guy that I’m crazy about, who i actually want to have sex with, who I love so much that I feel a primal need to be intimate with–and we can’t get the job done. It’s like some sick cosmic joke.