When sex became
the place you
disappear

You are not the only one doing this.

You are just the only one you can see.

And you're not the only one who thinks he's hiding it well.

You don't land here during it.

You land here after.

When everything is quieter.
Or louder in the wrong way.

When you're lying there and something in you has already checked out.
When you scroll your phone but don't really want to message anyone.
When you replay parts of the night you didn't fully choose.
Or the parts you did — and don't understand why you did again.

When you tell yourself:

And then a few days later:

You're back.

Same logic.
Same pull.
Same outcome.

Not because you're weak.

Because something in you is being solved there.

And nothing else is solving it yet.

At some point, you realise it's not changing.

You're just getting better at explaining it.

You're not here because you're curious.

You're here because something in this feels familiar.

For a lot of men, this is not mainly about drugs.

It's about becoming:

• more confident than you feel sober
• more wanted than you feel alone
• more open than you know how to be
• less ashamed than you usually are
• less trapped inside your own head

That's why it works.

And that's why it becomes expensive.