I Woke Up Not Horny

From Savage Spear of the Unicorn

I woke up and wasn’t horny anymore. Lily texted me. We had plans. She comes over and we fuck. I’m sorry she says. I forgot it’s the Sephora Winter Warmup. Staff from all district stores must congregate socially. I say OK. She video calls me. Wants to apologize. I say no problem. I mean it. I don’t want to look at her.

Angela texts me. I met the love of my life, she says again. Every other time this makes me despair. She was crazy. But she was perfect. Always in back of my head: get her back. Move across the ocean. Have a kid. I met the love of my life, she says. Maybe to torture me. Which I deserve. I say that’s great. I promised a ghost in an old temple I’d be good to her.

No other girls text me. I don’t text other girls. Walk to AA. So cold and black out. Specific city in winter darkness. Distant yellow street lights make it darker. Dirty river rushing under the bridge. Like a bad dream I’d have as a kid after an 80’s dystopian movie. Terminator coming for me. Walk past churches. Dirty river. Maybe I’ll convert now. But what’s the fucking point. Feeling that I jumped off that fire escape 15 years ago and none of this is real.

Church rec room where the AA meeting is. Pull out cafe au lait color folding chairs stored under the stage where an old man who’ll never have sex plays guitar at church socials. One hot girl. I can only admire her bone structure. Like looking at a nice old car when you can’t drive stick. Her black yoga pants mean nothing. A given she’d never speak to me. Or maybe if I made the effort. But I don’t care. My balls hurt. Maybe cancer. I don’t care.

I get up to jack off. Think about the one girl in the Philippines. Taking so long I’ll hurt my dick. What happens when it’s gone. I’ll be nothing. I’ll just die. Join a church. Go to church socials. Aging church women talk to me about boring horseshit. I won’t hang myself. Would I write about this feeling. Houellebecq got there first. I’ll get less horny and therefore only horny for hotter girls who want me less and less. Anyway I don’t miss it. What now. Is this some mercy nature gave me. Wait here’s a fat girl bending over in a dress.