Ten Months of Solitude
I’ve lost touch with my sexuality
The last time I was on an airplane was March 8th of this year. I flew from Beirut airport to Doha, Qatar, on Middle East Airlines, or Air Liban, as it is officially known. It was an ageing aircraft, but the meal was surprisingly good.
I have a history in Beirut. It’s a city I love, despite all its shortcomings, and I love the Lebanese. They are smart people but completely incapable of running their own country.
I spent five days there, basically wandering around places I had been to before to see if they had changed. I even went up to the mountains to see people skiing in the snow. It’s an amazing sight to see in the Middle East. I also went to Byblos, a Christian center in the country and took a tour in the pouring rain of the Egyptian and Phoenician ruins in the city. I had lunch there in a restaurant that would put any New York bistro to shame.
I had dinner in the expensive restaurants in the bubble in the center of Beirut with the power elite who have ruined the country for their own benefit. They only take US dollars in those places. I shopped in a supermarket that Americans only dream of while most Lebanese struggle to put food on the table.
I also had meetings in darkened buildings with people who were intent on changing things in their country. It’s something I would like to help make happen. America has a long history in Lebanon and most of it is good. Its money that they need, and I know how to get it. I’ll be back there next year.
On the flight back I looked with amused contempt at the passengers around me, most of whom were wearing masks and had terrified looks on their faces. I had been through scare after scare and I knew this was just another faux pandemic.
Little did I know it at the time, I was on the last flight from Beirut to Doha. If I hadn’t caught the plane, I would still be in that city now. I would have gone through the massive explosion at the docks because the apartment I was staying at was only blocks away.
Shortly after I landed and arrived at my nondescript apartment north of the city center, I opened a beer. As I was sipping it, I got a call from one of my supervisors at work. For the time being, I was told, all work would be done remotely, and the offices would be closed until further notice. After the fourth beer of the night, I laughed to myself when I thought about all the needless panic that was going on.
I was wrong, of course. Just as I have been about many things in my life.
I woke up the next morning, as I have every morning since, and wondered when the nightmare was going to end. Around August I had enough of staring at the walls, but I had signed a contract that could only be broken by underperformance on my part. That requirement was surprisingly easy to fulfill. The problem was, I wasn’t alone. Everyone was trying to get fired. I just had to wait my turn. My last day is the 30th of November. On December 1st I’ll see my wife for the first time in ten months.
It’s the first time in ten years that I will not have to share her with other lovers. She was monogamous for just a short time right after we were married, and it probably was only because there was a paucity of opportunity. It was a very brief moment in time because Nancy moved fast and within days of moving to London from New York she was in another man’s arms almost every night.
For the last ten months I haven’t had sex once, while my wife has frequently sated her desires with a number of lovers. Going without close physical contact or human affection for such a long period has a detrimental effect. It’s made me insecure, particularly sexually.
My mother had an obsession with masturbation. She didn’t think it was wrong, she thought it was a waste of sexual energy. She felt that energy should build up within oneself until an opportunity arose to release it. That was all well and good when I first started sharing her bed at the age of 18. The trouble is her idea stuck in my mind. I have not touched myself during this long period of isolation.
I can’t wait to be in some place beautiful, because that’s another thing I’ve gone without for too long. Where I am meeting my wife is one of the most beautiful places in the world. We’ll be together for a few months until we head back to civilization.
I have to reestablish my sexuality and I have to get the confidence I’ve lost back. The problem is I am walking into a sexual maelstrom and I am completely unprepared. I worry that I will be able to satisfy the woman who I married over ten years ago. I’ve been motionless for so long while she’s never stopped moving. I don’t want understanding or patience, I want to able to satisfy her again like I did a long time ago.
