I've had many roommates over the years. But I had never been exposed to the sounds of sex from a housemate before. That is, until recently. I don't know if the insulation or the doors that are allowing the sound to travel so freely, but it is a certainly a new experience. The first time I thought, "All right! Good job!" Now, after that, I find my feelings to be much more negative. As I described it to a friend, "It was if I had a trident thrust through my heart and lungs and wild beasts ripped out my innards." Yep, that's it. I suppose this will get easier over time. However, it points to another thing that has bothered me and that is the inability to create romantic relationships. For me, an appropriate metaphor (simile?) here would be of being forced to speak a foreign language, but you only know how to ask for the *******. I know a couple of phrases but not enough to get by much more than a tourist. Learned helplessness is what it is. To my credit, I have managed to see some good sites over the years (in the actual and metaphorical), so I appreciate their value. But like a tourist I know that, at the end of the day, you've got to go home. Unfortunately, home for me is solitude. Whether you call it my nature or my personality, in the end, I find myself alone much of the time (or at least feeling alone). I wish it was not so.

I've strayed from my original point, but an open tangent is fine I suppose.