Post by jim44444 on Apr 1, 2021 19:30:44 GMT -5
It is the often suggested with good authority on here and other forums dealing with sexless marriage that the afflicted partner should seek a paramour to satisfy their intimacy/sexual needs. I agree in theory with this course of action but I wonder if we give sufficient consideration to the whole emotional spectrum of this solution. Could it not just set us up for more rejection, more emotional distress?
If we should find someone that meets our criteria as a partner there is no guarantee that we will meet their criteria. If an affair should ensue there is no guarantee that that our emotional commitments if any will be in sync. More rejection is certainly not what we seek.
Hopefully anyone who persues the affair route does so with their eyes wide open. Hopefully they they are honest about their desires and goals with their new partner and themselves.
And yet in spite of all precautions we might take we run the risk of heartache. A risk well worth the possible reward.
This rambling was inspired by my reading of a poem by Patrick Kavanagh
On Raglan Road
On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.
On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge
Of the deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion's pledge,
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts and I not making hay -
O I loved too much and by such and such is happiness thrown away.
I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret sign that's known
To the artists who have known the true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint. I did not stint for I gave her poems to say.
With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow
That I had wooed not as I should a creature made of clay -
When the angel woos the clay he'd lose his wings at the dawn of day.