Boredom Makes the Crotch Grow Fonder

I'm in trouble.

I have been in a relationship for about four months now, and I'm very fond of this person. In fact, there are times when I feel that I love him, and that we could have a really great long-term relationship...and who knows what else after that? He's been, for the most part, great in bed - at least in the sense that he always wants to make sure that I'm satisfied. Considering that so many men seem to NOT be interested in that (sorry to any men reading this, but I can't begin to tell you how many guys are like "hey lady, you're on your own") and the fact that I'm very interested in making him happy, we both always end our lovemaking sessions with smiles on our faces.

He's caring, kind, considerate (most of the time), and an interesting person with a fierce intelligence. He isn't sycophantic in any way, nor is he a cold bastard (well, at least not a lot), and he seems to be a very loyal person who tries his best to keep his word on things. In short, he treats me like I try to treat him - most of the time.

That said, the flames of passion are already waning. For some reason, he never seems to want to have sex with me any more. I know that he is really busy right now with work on a project (we both work in advertising, but he's at a more successful and horrifically busy firm) that could really put him into not only a new tax bracket but in the midst of a whole new clientele; and I myself have been über busy with my job and a job search (on the sly) that is making me re-consider my career choice thus far. I was originally an English major and intended to go into writing and journalism - and found myself suddenly very far from that, surrounded by uptight Soho cliques.

_____ doesn't seem to be interested in me physically any more. He'll joke to his friends after a few beers that "his girlfriend is gorgeous and has a great ass" or he'll tell me how beautiful I am and that it's so wonderful to have me over...but he seems to rather go to sleep than have sex. If I start things, eventually it works it's way into us doing something - but I'm starting to have to do all the work.

And, as a result, no matter how many times he might say that he's attracted to me, I have to wonder if he still is. Is his interest waning? Is he already tired of my body? Is he taking me for granted? I don't think he's seeing someone else, but those thoughts flutter through my head as well, and I can't help but feel the stirrings of indignation inside of me.

And then...unfortunately, because of my wiring, the moment I feel that the person I'm with isn't into me anymore...I begin to look around. Not look as in sampling the merchandise, but simply window shopping. We'll be out and I'll blatantly flirt with one of our mutual friends, picking a piece of lint off of his shirt while I talk to him, ignoring _______ until he taps my shoulder and smiles, "Can I get in on this conversation?"

I want to say, "Only if you let ______ join in with us in bed." Instead, I smile and say "Of course!"

Several of my friends have told me that I'm Poly, and I try to refute this statement to the very end. I know that when I'm in a relationship I am very faithful and I get jealous at the idea of my partner with someone else. However, I also know that I have a very high sex drive and very low self-esteem; two factors that are a recipe for disaster if my partner is treating me like a pal instead of a lover. The fact that the sex that we do have is so vanilla that he hasn't gone down on me since the first month we were together is starting to make me miss the more adventurous aspects of any relationship I've had, sexually.

I am starting to miss the attention of people who flirt with me, who find me attractive. My thoughts are more and more traveling to recent exes, some of whom I talk with on the phone, for we are friends, and I fantasize about encounters. I know that it's harmless, and that I wouldn't (for these exes are exes for serious reasons), but part of me wonders at how harmless this all is; and if I'm not at the edge of a precipice, waiting to fall at the slightest shove. If not into their arms, then the arms of some others whose bodies my eyes have wandered over as of late.

One friend, with whom I have not slept for over a year, always talks about us hooking up every time we talk, even though he knows I'm attached to someone. It's more of a regular joke now, and I tell him he's so silly and then change the subject, but I know that if I was to say yes, he'd be ready in a heartbeat. He recently, during a lament I was making about the state of affairs of my sex life, suggested we go away for a weekend when the weather gets warmer. I almost said yes.

The thing is, I really, really care about the guy I'm dating. I really think he cares about me, as well. I know if I bring this up now, right now, he's going to just blow it off because he's so busy - and my mentioning this will be a big deal...he's going to tell me that I'm being ridiculous and that I couldn't pick a worse time to talk about this. That if I can just hold out a few more weeks, then he and I will have more time to enjoy ourselves together.

But what if he doesn't say that? What if he tells me what I fear: that he's tired of me, of us; that I bore him as much as he has begun to bore me in bed; that the glamor and shine of a new experience has worn off, leaving a lackluster smudge in it's wake?

I guess I don't want to know that either. Not sure...except that instead of being able to have sex with my boyfriend, I'm fantasizing alone in bed at my apartment about being with old flames and current mutual friends. Not a good sign.