I don’t know if there’s something inherently wrong with me. I mean, no, don’t answer that. I know there’s something wrong with me. I’ve got doctors who could confirm. But that’s not the point. (Or maybe it is?)
I just feel like I need to say something. And hey, maybe I’m alone in this. I might be the freak with commitment issues and afraid of real intimacy. But I have to speak my truth. I need to tell the world how I feel.
“Making love” is the fucking grossest phrase I’ve ever heard.
Have I made love before? Yes. 100%. And it’s been the best sex I’ve ever had. But did we call it that?
‘Making love’ sounds like some procedure that Hannibal performs right before he murders you. I’m not sure how this became an acceptable thing to say. Sex is a lovely word. Sex is a lovely thing, really. Why did we need to change it?
I just want to level with you, it’s impossible to say, “I want to make love to you,” without sounding like you’re a serial killer.
So do yourself (and the person you’re trying to woo) a favor, call it LITERALLY anything else. Sex. Fuck. Bang. Get in there. Action. Coitus. Fornication. Carnal knowledge.
WE’RE BEGGING YOU.