Bad Sex

She told me she was writing a book about all the bad sex she’d had.

I told her life was too short for bad sex.


Making a Plan

This time in 2005, I was preparing to leave the Army. I was divorced at this point (August 15) and I had no idea what to do with myself.

I knew I where I was going to live – dictated by my desire to be close to my son – but I didn’t have a job, didn’t have a place to live. Simply: I had no idea what I was to do with myself.

What I had learned to do in the Army was plan. So I started attacking the problem the way I would any operation.

I developed a mission. I grounded the mission in action, because that was all I knew how to do. I figured it wouldn’t do any good to try and ground the mission in ephemeral things like “be happy,” etc.

Here’s the mission I developed: August will perform operations of healthy living in vicinity of (where I lived) in order to secure a quality lifestyle for himself and his son.

I had a year of unemployment, so I didn’t have to find a job right off, but I wanted to. I figured “Operations of Healthy Living” was the best way to define what I needed to learn how to do. Live by myself, take care of myself, take care of my son, and move forward.

That’s a big task. So I broke it down by the month, by day, in a notebook.

H+0 – the day I arrived home.
H+1 – the next day. Etc.

Because my days with my son were already decided, I plugged those days into the timeline. Plugged in weekends, and the days for an entire month suddenly took shape. I didn’t have as many as I thought I did.

Now, as every officer knows, the first thing to change after crossing line of departure is the plan. But I had one started. That was comforting.

It also gave me time to think about Operations of Healthy Living. Things I would do on a daily basis to keep myself from going crazy.

(As I had learned sitting in my room by myself waiting to leave the Army, being drunk as much as possible only carried a guy so far, and it carried him to a miserable place.)

I began to list the behaviors I knew I needed to maintain:

Getting out of the house.
Meeting people.
Talking to someone everyday.
Maintaining friendships (calling people)

So these things led to tasks:
Get a cell phone
Find running routes
Find places to hang out.
Choose different parts of the city to explore.
Spend solid time with my son

Soon the H+ days filled with specific things I needed to accomplish. What had seemed like a formless space began to fill with action.

When you have things to do, thoughts of failure recede from your mind.

Just Sayin

God damn, I love pussy.


So why after four years do I finally feel qualified to give advice?

Let me describe what just happened.

I’m drinking a martini, something I never would have learned to make if I was still married (my wife hated me drinking). A woman just left my apartment after driving 40 minutes to see me. We went for a walk next to a local river and sat on the concrete wayside for a while, making out a little bit, before going back to my place. We talked for a while on the couch – about the martinis, about my favorite vodkas, whatever – before getting back to making out and finally going to the bedroom.

She just left. I didn’t try to keep her too long. I’m not hung up on her.

She’s great, but I understand this may be the only time I ever sleep with her. In a way, that’s great because we had a good time and it would be fine if it stayed that way.

I don’t say this to brag, but just to demonstrate where I am compared to where I was four years ago, when I told the first woman I dated after my divorce that I couldn’t understand how people separate sex and love. It didn’t seem worth it then.

I was still in provider mode. I was still bonded with my wife, and I couldn’t see how it could change.

It took a long time, and fumblings with a lot of women to get comfortable with myself. It takes me a little while to get an erection, especially with a new woman – I own up to that and plan to write more about it – but I’ve become comfortable enough with myself, and with being with a new person, that it’s not a big deal anymore to lead them toward what I need, and to ask for what I want. Yeah, it takes me a little longer to get hard, but I last longer now, which is great.

I wasn’t particularly worried about her orgasm; but she said she left satisfied, so that’s great. (She came, and her pussy had three distinct flavors, something I’ve never experienced before.)

I used to obsess over my wife’s orgasms, and later women, worried they wouldn’t stay with me if I couldn’t get them off. Now I know it’s not that big a deal. How comfortable are you? Does she have fun?

After the first time we made love, we just lay in bed kissing and playing each other. It was great. When it was time for her to go, I jumped up and urged her out the door. No neediness, no expectations. There are many beautiful women in this world, and unsurprisingly, they want to sleep with me and you. There’s no need to obsess over it.

Last night I hung out with a really nice lady who wants to take it more slowly, although I did push toward sex. (I should demonstrate I’m attracted to her, at least.) It was our fourth real “date.” We watched a movie after she made me dinner. We made out on her couch. All signs seemed to point toward go but she ended up stopping it. That’s fine with me. I think she’s an interesting person and I enjoy hanging out with her. The sex will happen. It’s not even the most important aspect of all of it.

So what am I getting at? I feel pretty good.

You might feel awful right now, and I’m not jotting down my disorganized ideas to rub my happiness in your face. You’re going to feel awful. You may not understand everything that’s happening, why, what led to this. But you will, and life will get better. Trust me.

I’m going to finish my martini and head to bed. I’ve got work in the morning.


Men make or use tools.

Men should not be tools.


Four years later, now that I truly feel back on my feet, have my sense of humor back and my misanthropy pushed down, I realize that I’ve learned a few things.

If I can share them with men going through the same process, I think I’ll have done some good.

8/15/05 is the anniversary of my divorce after seven years of marriage and eleven of being together.

In November of the same year, I left the Army after twelve years, embarking on an entirely new life knowing only two things:

1. I was going to be the best man I could be, and

2. Be the best father to my son possible.

I had a new lease on life.

So far I think I’m doing all right.