Dead Bedroom Blogger

Thoughts on lack of intimacy from a high-libido male in his mid-40s in a long-term dead-bedroom marriage.

[throwawayformydb]

No More Dead Bedroom

Well ... I guess it really is dead, but in a whole different way. 

Just as a quick update: I’m not in the marriage any more. That’s a long story.

But the good news is that as time goes by, things start to heal. And perhaps at some point, I’ll be ready to try a relationship again.

For now, though, I’ve got a new hobby. I’ve begun to learn about photography and have even found my first willing subject who was kind enough to allow me to take pictures of her beautiful body. I’ll be publishing them very soon on my own website! at some point, maybe!

I’m not sure anyone will ever even read this post, but if you do and you want to find out more, you can read all about my new efforts to create visual art follow here as I will update when I rebuild said site or do something different! 

I hope you enjoy... and I wish you the very best!

[throwawayformydb]

Horny or Heartache?

As I’ve written previously, it’s about more than just sex.

But damn. My libido is off the charts. At work, in meetings, seeing random strangers, wherever I may be, it’s difficult to not have raging desire.

I’m not a crazy perv who just stares at people, but I do sneak juicy glances at ladies who cross my field of vision. Catching a luscious set of curves in a tight dress or yoga pants or a low-cut top is literally driving me wild.

I’ve never had a problem controlling my behavior around other people. My wife doesn’t suspect me (any more) of desiring every female that walks by. But with sexual contact, loving affection, and other aspects of what I feel I want (and even need) out of a relationship now lacking more than ever, I do sometimes feel like these lovely ladies I see are just stoking my desire like never before.

And it’s not that they have to be a certain size or shape. I’m attracted to all sorts of body types. Curves definitely catch my eye, of course, but they can be any kind of curves (as much as I love breasts, it’s truly not about breast size for me).

And what’s even more alarming is when I see a loving face. Someone who looks caring or has smiling eyes (or both)? Then I’m really in trouble -- no matter what her other physical characteristics.

It’s weird to feel this kind of desire. Is it just raw lust?

No.

It’s heartache.

[throwawayformydb]

Waiting

Or: How not to be a dick.

So this is yet another season in our marriage where there’s a crisis going on. Or at least there’s a crisis for my wife.

The current crisis has nothing to do with our marriage—at least as far as she’s concerned—although many of the past ones have in some way or another. This time around, I actually have literally nothing to do with the crisis.

But... it means I’m waiting. Again.

Waiting for her to be able to have the emotional bandwidth to think about our relationship again. To think about sex without it pressuring her too much. To think about giving affection. To think about giving... in almost any way other than the day-to-day practical stuff she handles in our marriage and household.

And that means that I’m starving for affection. Yes, I’m starved for sexual contact as well, but any kind of emotional or physical intimacy would be nice. I get hugs, because she knows how much I thrive on physical contact.

But it’s one thing to get a hug from someone who knows you need one, and another thing entirely to get a hug from someone who wants to hug you. A hug with real warmth. A hug that means something. A hug with intimacy.

And let’s not even talking about kissing. I can’t remember when she kissed me like she meant it.

Sometimes she’ll kiss me during sex. But note the “sometimes” and the “during sex.” The latter happens so infrequently that it makes the former nearly meaningless.

And so, I try to be a good partner. I listen as she talks about the emotional issues. I bring flowers. I try to do things that say “I love you” in her love language (acts of service).

And I’m dying inside.

[throwawayformydb]

What I’ve missed out on

Today, I was breezing through posts on reddit. I have several throwaway accounts, and via those I’m subscribed to a number of sexy subreddits (mostly trying to find girls that remind me of my wife... so... I’ve found places where girls over 30 and over 40 post, where curvy girls post... I’m not interested in the kind of stuff that gets to the top of the main “gonewild” subreddit, because those tend to be super young stick figures who don’t remind me of my wife).

Anyway, some of the women whose posts show up in my reddit feed at least portray themselves as horny. They dress up in lingerie, or they masturbate, or they show off their bodies in really sexy ways. I’m aware enough to know that some of that is just because they know that guys on reddit will respond to them portraying themselves that way, and they get upvotes and positive comments and probably tons of PMs that hopefully ends up giving them some affirmation.

But some of the posts are just everyday stuff.

And even though I probably should just quit looking at this stuff (I go through phases where I don’t look for weeks or months, and then phases like I’m in right now where I’m in there often), today it really struck me that I’ve missed out on all sorts of fun stuff in my life.

Things like

getting a sexy text with a boob flash

hanging around naked

going places just to have sex

trying out adventurous sexy things

using sex toys

randomly making out

having my wife show up in my office just to kiss me

making out in the back of a movie theater

taking pics of her trying sexy things on in stores

having her send me a fun selfie of her ass

I dunno.

I probably sound like the most self-absorbed asshole of a guy that ever lived. But I truly am not that way. It’s just that today all this stuff has kinda caught up with me and made me feel sad.

And I’m really hurting from a weekend without intimacy.

[throwawayformydb]

Another weekend without sex

The closest we got to intimacy this weekend? She gave me a bare-breasted hug last night.

I was exhausted after a long day. I’m tired a lot these days, so that’s not unusual.

She’s going through a very difficult situation that’s really affecting her emotionally right now, so things are worse than usual. (The situation has nothing to do with me.)

But yesterday (which was a Sunday), when she got out of bed wearing only a pair of panties and my eyes followed her (probably hungrily), she said, “We’ll have sex today.”

And of course we didn’t.

Last night, she even announced that she had been in the mood Saturday night, but she fell asleep.

“That probably doesn’t help you,” she’d added.

No. It doesn’t. And I said so.

So... I woke up today horny as fuck. I got up before anyone else, made coffee, and read a bunch of stuff on reddit, including lots of posts by beautiful ladies of all ages. I wanted to masturbate so badly, but there wasn’t a good opportunity to do so without being discovered.

And so, I’m in my office trying to concentrate on work (which I can’t really do at the moment), and I’m really hurting.

Sure... I want sex. I want to be loved. I want to give love. I want an orgasm, and I want to give some orgasms. I want to kiss. I want to touch. I want to caress. I want to lick. I want to be intimate on every level.

But it’s more than that: I really am feeling cheated. I feel like I’m missing out on something important in life, and I don’t see how I’ll ever have the opportunity to feel what I want to feel and experience what I want to experience. I feel trapped.

[throwawayformydb]

Some place to vent

A continuation (of sorts) of these reddit posts:

Wife: "Am I the love of your life?" 

Falling in love everyday

I’m setting up this tumblr today because I need something different. I’ve been posting infrequently for a while on /r/DeadBedrooms (which is a really great, supportive community, I might add), but sometimes I need something different.

I have a personal journal, which I don’t keep up as often as I’d like. But this is the sort of thing that I don’t want to put in that journal, which might have something to do with why I don’t write in that one as frequently as I should. I made a decision (good or bad) to keep this sort of thing out of that journal, because I imagine someday, somehow, it’ll get read by someone else. Despite its relatively private location, for any number of reasons, it’s findable by someone who snoops effectively enough into my stuff. And I guess I’ve always had this image in my mind of someone digging through things after I die. If it’s my one and only daughter (which is reasonably likely -- at least she’s as likely as anyone to find it), then I don’t want her to know how much this particular topic has consumed my thinking.

What is “this particular topic” that I want to hide from my daughter?

Ugh. Probably more than anything, it’s just sex in general. I’m far more horny (all the freaking time) than anyone would probably guess in real life.

Yes... I’m a guy. So, stereotypically, I’m horny. But the Dead Bedrooms community on reddit has taught me that there are some females who are “high libido” like I am (despite however much I have struggled to believe it’s true at times).

Quick Background

Currently, I’m 44. I’m hovering around 20 years of marriage. (I don’t mind sharing about some specifics, but I also would rather remain anonymous here as I do on reddit (hence the username).

We have one daughter, as I’ve already said. She’s a teenager.

I got into this marriage thinking I’d found my dream girl. We had a lot in common in certain areas of our lives. We grew up in similar families (2 kids, middle class, highly religious), had shared enthusiasm for certain things that we both valued highly at the time (most of which centered around our faith and our involvement in Christianity).

I thought marriage would be that big opportunity in my life to explore intimacy at every level: physically, emotionally, mentally, and so on. When we went on our honeymoon and sex was less than great, I attributed it to a bunch of things:

I was a virgin, so actual intercourse was brand new

She wasn’t a virgin, and had had terrible experiences with other guys

We hadn’t actually been dating or engaged all that long, so there was a lot of adjusting to do

We’d had a major hiccup during the wedding which really affected her

Turns out, that set the pattern for our entire marriage. Her trauma from before, father issues, and just about anything not being perfect in her life all affect her libido.

And, she’s terrified of intimacy. She’s OK with sex itself (other than the fact that the stars have to align, the wind has to be blowing from the right direction, the temperature has to be just right, and a zillion other details must come together perfectly for her to be in the mood), but intimacy -- even after 20 years -- is still largely off the table.

She also doesn’t really enjoy kissing.

These last two things are quite possibly the biggest surprises and disappointments of my entire life.

I love kissing and making out.

And I love intimacy.

In relationships prior to this one, although I never had “PIV” sex (actual “penis in vagina” intercourse), I had had amazing relationships where intimacy were concerned. One relationship in particular involved lots of soul-baring conversation, deep honesty, and hours upon hours each week of kissing and making out.

I don’t have time for much else today, but I wanted to get some quick background out in case this ever gets read by anyone. I also want to crank out one quick post about where I’m at today, which I’ll do separately just so this one can stand on its own.

##Update: here’s where I’m at today##

[throwawayformydb]

Falling in love everyday

Note: this post was originally published on /r/DeadBedrooms

Today, I realized I'm falling in love a lot. It might be a waitress, a barista, or someone I see walking by. These women aren't necessarily provocatively dressed, they don't exude sexual energy or some other magical thing.

They just seem nice.

And as I sat here in a coffee shop trying not to follow the nice-seeming barista around the store with my eyes as she went about her duties, it occurred to me just how pathetic this is. I feel like that socially-awkward, hopeless guy that we all knew in high school—the one that you just knew would never get a date, because he'd never have the courage to ask for one.

Only for me it isn't a lack of courage. It's that I'm married to someone whom I love dearly, but from whom I no longer receive any affection.

She'd kill me if she saw me looking at other women. She'd be devastated if she knew how often I find my heart beating a little faster when someone who happens to be female shows me the least big of basic human kindness. A smile, a funny remark. A little cheerful banter.

Why does all of this affect me this way? Because I haven't felt it from or for my wife in... much longer than I care to admit.

Sure—we still exchange "I love yous" every day. I do everything I can to make her life easier. I help around the house. I offer to do school drop-offs and pick-ups. I help with homework. I also work endless hours in the business we've built together and carry far more of the weight than I should, or that's even close to sustainable. For her, we're better off financially than we've been in years. But I'm the one handling all the stress of the money and daily juggling all the pressures to make sure she doesn't have to handle the difficult stuff.

And we have sex once or twice a month. I almost never initiate anymore because it feels to her like I'm pressuring her. We've talked. We've had something similar to "the talk." She's going to work on it, she really is. But things have been hard. Transitions in parenting. Transitions in hormones. Being sick. Being busy. Extra stuff on the plate.

It all adds up. But what it adds up to is, "I don't matter." My feelings don't matter. The fact that I feel unloved doesn't matter. The fact that nothing I've done (including creating more financial stability) makes her want to be affectionate towards me—not to mention have sex with me—tells me that she really is the self-centered person I always told myself she wasn't. I made all the excuses for her. I've listened empathetically as she's told me tales of trauma as a young woman at the hands of guys who were abusive—verbally and emotionally, at least. I've tried to help nurture her and encourage her through body image issues (she's always been beautiful and desirable to me and she has heard this from me for 20 years now), eating disorders, depression, parenting difficulties... you name it.

I've tried desperately to not be selfish. Don't be "that guy." You know—the one that only cares about himself. The one that treats women like shit. The one that doesn't respect the effort and hardships that come with being a woman in today's society, being a Mom, being uniquely female. I respect all of that. I've always treated her right.

Until lately. Oh sure, I still treat her right. But inside I'm dying. I'm looking for love. I'm looking for affection, for attention. I crave basic human contact. Hugs (which I get from her, but not often), kisses, affection, making out. What would it be like to be kissed passionately?

And that's what I wonder when I meet a nice female. Do they know that inside I'm dying? That I want to be with them? Not to use them lustfully or just get off over their physical attributes. But to feel connected. To kiss. To love.

We've got a list of marriage counselors. With no insurance, some of these prices seem staggering. Is it worth it for me to go to sessions with a therapist and pay all the money when I feel like I've lost hope that any of this will ever change?

Should I just accept that we have a business relationship? A domestic arrangement? At least until we're empty nesters and I don't feel the need to keep a stable household like a good father? But by then will I have any desirability left at all for any woman I meet? Old and used up? My best years wasted on someone who just didn't have it in her—not maliciously, but just as a deficiency—to love me, desire me, make me feel loved?

Do the people sitting here in this coffee shop notice me discreetly wiping a tear from my eye? Do I look like I'm dying inside? I hope not. My facade is all I have left.

[throwawayformydb]

Wife: "Am I the love of your life?"

This post was originally published on /r/DeadBedrooms

Quick background: I'm a HLM married to a LLF and about to celebrate our 19th wedding anniversary. Sex has never been frequent, but less and less frequent in recent years. We're probably at 2x/month now.

Typical story... I'm an eternal optimist and always hoped it would get better. She was working through major emotional issues in the early years of our marriage, nearly all of which have improved greatly. I always thought as she got healthier emotionally and felt unconditionally loved by me, the intimacy (on all levels, but certainly sexual) would improve. They haven't.

When we got married, I was head-over-heels in love. Looking back... I'm not sure whether she was or not. She acted like it, but she came into the relationship as a sexual abuse victim (never raped, mostly verbal abuse from asshole exes who belittled her physical attributes), and I just thought she was a little "bruised" in that area and she would heal over time.

Fast-forward to today. I've always been super generous and give and give and give. She had her first orgasm ever during our honeymoon because I gave her oral. She's never reciprocated for long enough that I orgasmed, and those reciprocations were only a handful of times anyway. She has TMJ problems, so her jaw has always been the excuse. But as I've lurked around here and started to really wake up to the fact that I'm in a "dead bedroom," I've realized that she is a bit of a pillow princess (assuming I'm using the term correctly). She takes so long to warm up to any sexual activity, that the whole thing is completely about her. I love being generous, so this was OK with me for a long time. I'd give her 30+ minutes of full-body massage, give her oral for however long it took, she'd orgasm, then she'd want me "inside" her ASAP and want the whole thing over with as quickly as possible from there.

Out of some sort of sense of guilt (assuming the worst) or generosity (assuming the best), she would propose "quickies." This involves zero intimacy and might as well be me masturbating -- just using her body. She's completely been passive in these situations.

As much as I enjoy orgasming inside her, I've come to view these quickies as a turnoff in every way except the pure biological/physiological release.

Sex is just one part of a relationship, so I've tried to work on every other part of the relationship in hopes that this would improve. We had some big financial challenges years ago which have stabilized (she's big on financial security, which affected everything in the rough times -- especially sex), we've been to relationship counseling to address communication and other issues which have mostly been worked out.

However... she has always had a terrible fear of me being interested in other women or even looking at porn. God forbid that I actually masturbate (I do... but she doesn't know it). On top of that, she's always felt pressure to have more sex -- NOT from me, but because she knows it isn't great. So... bringing this up or talking about it always felt to me like a DICK move.

This is getting way, way longer than I intended. Let me bottom-line it: she's been binge-watching a show on Netflix that ended up doing a bunch of drama around the "love of your life." I've not been watching the show, but I came in during one of the episodes where some starry-eyed people were talking about the "one love of your life" and debating whether they could end up having more than one.

Wife turns to look at me: "Am I the love of your life?"

RED ALERT. RED ALERT. Now's not the time for hesitation! WTF do I say?!

"YES. Of course you are!"

And part of me is dying inside.

"You don't love me like you used to, though. You're committed to me, but you used to really love me."

FUCK. I really want this to work out well. We have such a great life in so many areas. She has made efforts in the sex department. We had a talk a few weeks ago about how I'm not feeling loved, and how that -- sure -- sex is part of it, but it's more about intimacy and feeling like I'm cared for and not just expected to do all the husband stuff. That had gone really well. She really acted like she was going to work on everything, including seeing a therapist about intimacy issues. She's even taken some steps in that direction.

I've read about so many of you who were able to reach the place where you could say, "my needs are important enough," or even, "satisfying my libido is important enough," that you were able to end long-term relationships. I'm not sure that I can get there. Maybe so... but at the end of my life am I going to look back and say, "I threw away a near-20-year marriage to the mother of my child because I wasn't getting enough sex?! What the FUCK was I thinking?"

I'm sure some will say, "talk to her about opening the relationship." Even mentioning that as if it were a possibility would likely bring this relationship to an end.

We have a getaway planned to celebrate our anniversary in a couple of weeks. I'm going all-out romantic. She'll know that I wanna fuck like bunny rabbits the whole weekend, but I'm going to play that down (because she'll feel pressure and then everything will end in disaster). But of course I want to fuck like bunny rabbits!!

I already know she's feeling poorly about the relationship based upon the "Am I the love of your life?" question and subsequent conversation. I want to try to reignite as much of a spark here as I can.

But I feel like I'm standing at a fork in the road gaping at it like a fucking idiot.