Sunday, May 27, 2018

OPP: Damaged Memory

This is not one of my old posts, but one by Pervertically Virtuous (scroll to bottom for more info)
(FYI: all links in this post are working. My question and her reply are at the bottom...)

recovered post by Pervertically Virtuous

Damaged Memory

by Pervertically Virtuous
The other day, a guy called Ed who looked vaguely familiar friended me on Facebook. I started going through his photos and it took me a long while before I realized who he was: One of my couchsurfing hosts in NYC about 6 years ago.
(photo added in 2016, not from original post)
That first year of my PhD in Unitown, I didn't know too many people in NYC, so during my monthly visits – to get my big city fix and not go nuts in small town America - I couchsurfed. It's the best way to travel: Free accommodation with someone who knows the city and is happy to show you around, introduce you to their friends, places, and favorite activities - to their NYC. Of course, me being the slut that I am, I always tried to add an additional benefit to all my couchsurfing experiences: sex. I would try to choose hosts – always men - who I thought I might wanna fuck based on their CS profile. This worked out in 90% of the cases and made my stays even more fun and pleasant.
Ed and his housemate Steve were no exceptions. I remember staying in their small, cramped, two bedroom apartment in Greenpoint. That was the first time I ended up in that northernmost part of Brooklyn, and got to experience the dreaded G train (the only subway line that runs north-south through Brooklyn). This old Polish working class neighborhood still looked a bit seedy and run down, but the new hipstery flavor was slowly taking hold.
The day I arrived, Ed and Steve already had two Norwegian girls couchsurfing with them, and we all went out for a fun night at the local bars. Since the girls were staying in one of the bedrooms, one of the guys and I shared the two ends of the big, V-shaped couch in the living room. Shockingly, nothing happened.
When the girls left town the next day, I remember hooking up with someone. It was either Ed or Steve, obviously, but I don't have the slightest idea which one. With a gun to my head, I would've probably gone for Steve, but I really don't remember. I also don't remember what exactly took place: Did we fuck, did we just do oral, make out...? No idea.
So after accepting Ed's friend request on Facebook, I decided to find out what happened that day.
Me:  So, uhm, this is gonna sound terrible, but I can't, for the life of me, remember which one of you I hooked up with? It was so long ago...
Ed: Haha! You don't remember coming out of the shower and going down on me?
Me: No, I don't really remember... I did? OK, that's good to know. Was it a good blowjob? And Steve? Did I hook up with him?
Ed: I don't think you hooked up with Steve. The blowjob was hot. You started blowing me on the couch, then I stood up and you got on your knees and deepthroated me. I had a girlfriend at the time, but the blowjob was worth it.
Me: Well, glad to hear that. And we didn't fuck?
Ed: We were planning to. I was going to bend you over the bed, as per your request. But you did too good of a job blowing me.
Me: Ha! Silly me. So I didn't get an orgasm?
Ed: I don't think so.
Me: Wow, you remember this so well...?!
Ed: Oh yeah, I've definitely masturbated to it numerous times.
OK, I AM ENVIOUS.
Because, this is not an isolated incident.
I read all other blogger's answers to this week's TMI Tuesday: "Who's Counting?". Most of them remembered all their partners, all the times they had some kind of group sex, all the days on which they fucked more than one person consecutively. I don't remember about a quarter of my sexual partners (even with a list of just their names) and even more sexual encounters. I can remember my one and only gangbang, but I couldn't possibly remember all of my threesomes or fouresomes. I know I've had many days, especially in my younger days (and by that I mean my teens) when I fucked two, three, or four people in the same day, but right now I can only remember the most recent example of that (fucking Karlo in the morning and giving Mama's Boy a blowjob in the evening) – because it happened only a few days ago.
It's not like I've been drunk or otherwise unconscious during those events. It's not like they were unpleasant events I have actively tried to forget. No. The vast majority (as in 99%) of my sexual encounters have happened while I was completely or mostly sober, and was a very willing participant (and more often than not, the instigator). Yet, several years later, I barely remember them.
Why don't I remember?
Is this an unavoidable by-product of having had so many experiences and partners over the years (and not having written them down)? Obviously, it's much easier to remember fewer people and experiences, and none of this week's TMI bloggers who shared their actual numbers came even close to my number. But is forgetting inevitable?
Or is it because I fail to relive the experiences? Except in the case of very intense or unusual experiences, repetition is typically necessary for memories to form. But I rarely mentally recreate my sexual experiences. The day or two after a particularly intense or new or unusual encounter I may get lovely flashbacks that will make my pussy wet, but after that I rarely try to conjure up those images, sounds, and smells in my mind. Other people do this more, I know it. I know my husband does this with pretty much every sexual encounter we have together. I know Ed has done this with our simple blowjob for years. But I don't.
So, why don't I relive my experiences?
I have two possible explanations.
The more benign explanation is that it's a time issue. That I live in the present moment to the fullest, and that being so focused on each and every moment of my life while it is happening simply doesn't allow focusing on any past moments. (Or any future moments, for that matter. I also rarely think about the future; I may plan for it, but I rarely imagine it. Take, for example, vacations. I typically spend some time making the necessary arrangements, but I don't spend any time thinking about what it would be like once I'm there.) But who am I bullshitting really? No one is living in the present moment to that extent that they cannot find some time to remember past moments or imagine future ones, right?
The more sinister explanation to my predicament is that I don't appreciate experiences. Fun, pleasurable sexual (and nonsexual) experiences have been so easy to come by in my life, that I treat them as expendable and easily replaceable. Why place so much emphasis on an experience that just happened when there's always another one waiting for me just around the corner? It was good while it lasted, but once it's over it's over and it has no more value to me, so no need to revisit it.
Taking life for granted like this is an awful personality flaw. Yes, my life is pretty fabulous, but I feel like I've lost something for having forgotten the many fabulous things and people that I've experienced.
How do you learn to be more appreciative, more grateful? Can you force yourself to relive and relish your experiences if that doesn't come naturally to you? Because, if you can, I'd like to try...
One thing I know will help in the future is writing everything down from now on.
And getting other people to help me remember the things I've forgotten. I got Ed to write up our blowjob experience. I got Tye to write up our many sexual experiences over the years. Maybe I could get more of my past sexual partners on board? Now there's a fun project...
Related posts:
TMI Tuesday: Numbers, Numbers
Pervertically Virtuous | May 27, 2013 at 11:11 am | Tags: gratitude, memories, sex story | Categories: Life According to Z |
Pervertically Virtuous in response to Nero:
Do you remember every great meal you ever had? No. That’s because as much as you enjoyed it your brain knows you will be having more great meals so doesn’t store all the data. (What’s your email address? I should tell you about the time I fucked you so perfectly that your brain melted and [...] ~ NERO

haha, I’d love to hear that story!
but seriously, is sex exactly like food? I certainly often use that analogy when I talk against monogamy, but I’m not sure I wanna use it when talking about memories. I mean, these are whole people I have forgotten, living, breathing human beings that shared with me something that for so many is an incredibly special, sacred even, exchange, yet I have not the slightest memory of them…
I don’t know, maybe you’re right, maybe I shouldn’t worry too much about it, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve lost something by forgetting…


writingthebody in response to Pervertically Virtuous:

This is interesting to me as well – I have a crap memory too, and I am not sure why. I have not really forgotten sex things, but I do forget things at times that make people look at me and go, WTF? Like when I forgot to turn up to my graduation from a short course I had done…..that was weird esp since I had been a kind of exemplary student….or just things…I know what you mean. You do not need to be drunk for them to just slide out somehow. Maybe it is a kind of mental process. Anyway, I liked your exploration of it, and maybe you have it down. I am not sure.

In the process of recovering my own old posts via email I discovered some of P.V.'s. Like me, her old accounts have been terminated, and she seems to have disappeared from the internet. This is a damn shame since I consider her one of the best sex bloggers I've ever had the chance to read and follow. I'm reposting her old posts as a historical archive, and if she ever returns to blogging I'm happy to hand them back to her.
To be clear: the copyright on this work is hers, and remains with her - I didn't write it and I make no claim to it.
~ NERO

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