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  • It could, on the surface, be an argument about almost anything: what time to leave for the

  • airport, who forgot to post the tax form, where to send the children to schoolBut,

  • in reality, in disguise, unmentioned and unmentionable, it is typically the very same argument, the

  • no-sex argument, the single greatest argument that ever afflicts committed couples, the

  • argument which has powered more furious oblique exchanges among lovers than any other, the

  • argument that right now, explains why one person is angrily refusing to speak to another

  • over a bowl of Udon noodles in a restaurant in downtown Yokohama and another is screaming

  • in an apartment on an upper floor of a block in the suburbs of Belo Horizonte, why a child

  • has acquired a step-parent and a person is crying over a bottle or at their therapist's

  • office. The real injuryyou have ceased to want me and I can no longer bear myself

  • or youcan't be mentioned because it cuts us too deep; it threatens too much of

  • our dignity, it is bigger than we are. In the darkness late at night, time after time,

  • our hand moved towards theirs, tried to coax them into a caress and was turned down. They

  • held our fingers limply for a moment and then, as if we were the monster we now take ourselves

  • to be, curled away from us and disappeared into the warren of sleep. We have stopped

  • trying now. It may happen once in a blue moon, a few times a year, but we understand the

  • score well enough: we are not wanted. We feel like outcasts, the only ones to be rejected

  • in this way, the victims of a rare disease; nursing an emotional injury far too shaming

  • to mention to others let alone ourselves, the only ones not be having sex in a happy

  • sex-filled world. Our anger aggravates our injury and traps us in cycles of hostility.

  • Perhaps they don't want us in the night because we have been so vile in the day; but

  • so long as our hand goes unwanted, we can never muster the courage to be anything but

  • vindictive in their presence. It hurts more than being single, when at least the neglect

  • was to be expected. This is a sentence without end. We can neither complain, nor let the

  • issue go. We feel compelled to fight by proxy about anything we can lay our hands on: the

  • washing powder and the walk to the park, the money for the dentist and the course of the

  • nation's politics, all because we so badly need to be held and to hold, to penetrate

  • or to be penetrated.

  • It is in a sense deeply strange, even silly that so much should hang on this issue, that

  • the future of families, the fate of children, the division of assets, the survival of a

  • friendship group, should depend on the right sort of frottage of a few centimetres of our

  • upper limbs. It's the tiniest thing and at the same time the very largest. The absence

  • of sex matters so much because sex itself is the supreme conciliator and salve of all

  • conflict, ill-feeling, loneliness and disinterest. It is almost impossible to make love and be

  • sad, indifferent or bitter. Furious perhaps, in a passionate and ardent way. But notalmost

  • alwaystruly elsewhere or beset by major grievance. The act forces presence, vulnerability,

  • honesty, tenderness, release. It matters inordinately because it is the ultimate proof that everything

  • is, despite everything, still OK. As ever, so much would change if only we could be helped

  • to find the words, if we could fight our way past our shame, if we didn't have to feel

  • so alone (this should be proof enough that we aren't); if we could point to the problem

  • without fury, without humiliation, without defensiveness; if we could simply name our

  • desperation without becoming desperate, if the one who didn't want it could explain

  • in terms that made sense and were bearable and the one who felt cast aside could explain

  • without surrendering to vindictiveness or despair. We would ideally, alongside physics

  • and geography, learn the basics of all this in our last year at high school, learn how

  • to spot and assuage the no-sex argument with an in-depth course and regular refreshments

  • throughout our lives. It is the paradigm of all arguments. Those who can get over it can

  • get over pretty much any dispute; those who cannot must squabble to the grave. Were our

  • species to learn how to do this, the world would be suddenly and decisively calmer: there

  • would be infinitely fewer fights, alcoholic outbursts, divorces, affairs, rages, denunciations,

  • recriminations, civil wars, armed conflicts and nuclear conflagrations. At the first signs

  • of no-sex arguments, couples would know how carefully to locate the words that could address

  • their sorrow. There would not always be an answer but there would always be the right

  • sort of conversationand, on a good day, the endurance of love.

  • Our Pillow Talk cards help prompt us to share our intimate desires.

  • To find out more click the link on your screen now.

It could, on the surface, be an argument about almost anything: what time to leave for the

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B1 中級 美國腔

性生活太少時的爭論 (Arguments When There Is Too Little Sex)

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    Mayu Okuuchi 發佈於 2021 年 01 月 14 日
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