The new problem

I can’t cum. I literally can’t. I know this has a lot to do with the antidepressants, but holy moly it feels weird. It’s a different kind of sad. It makes your girlfriend sad, it makes you sad, it sometimes even makes your neighbors sad. I am aware that a few changes in the medication might be able to fix this, but I don’t have the heart to tell my doctor. He’s so proud of my achievements, I don’t want to ruin it. Thinking back, I now realize why he asked me if I was single. I thought he was genuinely curious. So I happily said yes. My face lit up when I said it too. I thought it’ll make him happy, but apparently a single man in his early thirties is not exciting enough. You have to spice it up with a few mental disorders, maybe a few addictions here and there, and a resentful childhood tops it off like icing on a cake.

It feels weird because I still have “the drive”, but I just can’t cum. For someone like me, who used to jerkoff every other day, this might be a blessing in disguise, but now it’s like the tap’s closed. The fountain of youth is now a receding river.

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