To Blove.

The new taboo is love.

Sex is fine. I can tell Alan or Benny I'd like to have a particular kind of sex and they might say yes or no, but it's a discussion we can have. Short of the unethical or the disgusting, nothing about sex frightens them.

The slightest suggestion of love does. I'd be crazy, some kind of weird boundary-impaired stalkergirl to even think about falling in love with one of the men I fuck. For all the time we spend together, as close as we get, for me to say "I love you" to Alan would, I think, horrify him as much as if a random stranger said it. In this sort of relationship, love is so inappropriate you can't even joke about it.

Makes me kind of sad. Not because I'm in love--gosh, you think I'm some kind of freak?--I'm really not. But I want the option. I want the ability to talk about it, think about it. I don't want us to fear it.

I want "I love you" to be a sweet thing to say to a lover. Not an atom bomb.