Lingerie manufacturers want you to think that they have got the market cornered on being sexy--that you are magically granted magic thong powers when you snap that string into place, and you become a goddess of love, with great and glorious power over all sexual organs within your provenance. Which would be nice if it were entirely true, and if that was the entirety of the secret.
I wish it were as easy as lingerie, that cute underpants could solve everything, because this past almost-a-week, I have not felt sexy at all. I have felt more or less on the far bank from sexy. Sexy is sunning itself on one side of the tracks, in its condo's private rooftop garden in the expensive neighborhood with all the Rottweilers on Coach leashes, and I'm asking for spare change over here in the dark and tragic unsexy side of town, scratching my open lesions and wonder what, exactly, it is like to be loved. If I were to approach it, it would shriek Masher! and beat me away with its purse and then mace me for good measure.
I've got cold sores, and they are ugly, and I am a horrible, ugly troll, and no one will ever want me and I will never have sex again. It does not matter that the reason I have not had sex in almost a (long and terrible) week is because I am so terrified of infecting my guy that I cannot relax and dousing yourself and all your mucus membranes in (useless, pointless) antibacterial gel is not conducive to sexy-making times.
A week of this and I am learning that having sex (with and without lingerie) is one of those things that makes me feel sexy--happiness begets happiness, is my theory. Not having sex (even though my underpants really are pretty cute) builds on itself similarly, and every day, I feel that it is less possible, that I am more untouchable, that I get uglier, and as you can imagine the cold sores are not a help. I think the virus might have wormed through my skin and into my skull and my entire frontal lobe has been replaced with unsexiness.
My guy, he tells me I am crazy, that he wants me, that I am being silly. I don't feel sexy. I wear nice underpants, and I am unsexy. The cold sores are clearing up, and I still feel not-sexy. My outfit color coordinates and my hair is perfect! I am so unsexy. He says I have a great butt, especially in those underpants, but I will never be sexy again. I am ready to take a tip from a friend who read in Good Housekeeping that you're supposed to take a candlelit bath and touch your bosoms and tell yourself how beautiful you are, except I'll probably worry about giving my bosoms a cold sore and that'll feel really unsexy.
You tell me, then: what makes you feel sexy? We'll write the bestseller together.
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