Tomorrow, sex will happen again

Maybe.

Sometimes, I wonder if I will ever fuck again. The majority of the time, this thought is submerged in the chilly waters of my deep subconscious. But when I have a snatched twenty minutes to lie flat on my back and remember myself as a sexual being, it’s right there, in flashing neon letters: ‘WHEN WILL I KNOW THE TOUCH OF ANOTHER?’

A running joke my best friend and I have is the agony of being reminded what sex is like. With such activity off the table for most of the calendar year, my libido enters what I’ve come to think of as a state of sexual cryosleep. This makes life bearable. But every so often there will be a reminder. Sometimes these prompts are understandable: intermingling limbs on a TV show, or seeing the couple at the adjoining restaurant table exchange sticky glances. Other times they’re a testament to just how chronic the skin hunger is, like getting set off when sampling the blow dry function on the fancy Japanese toilet at a Halloween party. 

Celibacy is incredibly in vogue at the moment for young women, for multiple reasons that broadly amount to a howl of dissatisfaction with the dating landscape. But I am not celibate, ok? I fuck! Intermittently! I’ll show you my list! 

My problem is different: I’m semi-sober. I drink when two requirements are satisfied: 1) am I ‘comfortable’? (i.e. not drinking to make myself feel cheerier, less tired or more attractive). And 2) when a hangover won’t torpedo plans the next day. So drinking is usually restricted to the odd dinner with the girls, or at my personal happiness climax: plugging in my USB at a club night, about to plunge into a world of Beyoncé remixes for two hours. Never do I drink on ventures like first dates.

Can being part-time sober really impact your sex life that much? Before I changed my relationship to booze, I would have been sceptical.