My love life is certainly pathetic, and maybe I will never get laid again in my life, but I doubt I am asexual. I kind of wish I was asexual. It would make life a lot easier.

For one thing, people are complicated and disgusting. People don’t follow the life scripts I make up when I fantasize. They make their own decisions, which are often bad ones. They live their own lives. Sometimes they smell funny. They poop and pee and sweat. If I wanted to deal with all those bodily functions I would get a dog or cat. In the abstract the proposition of being in close contact with another being seems appealing, but the reality seems awful.

Then there is the temptation. I give thanks every day that I am not a straight male, because the sheer temptation all around me would be unbearable. In addition to luscious lust-objects walking around (most of whom would resent being thought of as lust-objects), there are endless appeals to sex in advertising and entertainment. My tastes are rare enough that super-attractive people rarely are featured on screen or in print, and when they are I am in trouble. When attractive people walk by on the street it takes every ounce of will to avoid ogling. I hate it, and I wish I did not have to deal with it. And unlike straight men, I am not swimming in that kind of sexualized environment constantly.

What good has my sexuality done me? I have wasted years of my life thinking sexual thoughts and masturbating, and even more years feeling lonely and sorry for myself. What a waste of time. I never wanted children, so it is not as if the biological drive to reproduce did me any good.

On the other hand, I am anxious about aging, and way that “the equipment” stops functioning reliably. I guess I am more accepting of my diminishing libido. I just hope I don’t miss it when it is gone.

Being a member of a sexual minority has probably been helpful overall. First the HIV crisis scared me into never wanting to have sex with anybody ever, and then I realized that almost nobody around me would be receptive to my fumbling advances. Combine that with my unorthodox tastes and it is easy to argue that I have been protected from STIs and heartbreak, at the expense of a lot of loneliness.

I do not mean to say that asexuals have things easy, especially if they are asexual but not aromantic. But for me it would be an easier path than the one I have chosen for myself.