Dating : Why Does Attraction Die After Sex?

Recently I slept with a woman after four dates. I really liked her. We connected in many ways and shared a great number of similarities. Then, we had sex… During our romp, I began to feel different. My feelings couldn’t even wait until after the deed was done to change — they began to change during intercourse — to the point where I wanted it to end and I wanted to leave. Internally, I was shocked to feel such an uprising. I bemused myself. How could this change occur so suddenly? What’s the matter with me?

I couldn’t come, no wonder, so she obliged with her mouth. She was really good. As she was giving me head, sucking hard to draw the climax out of me, I thought to myself, this is what I want from a woman. She was taking ownership of my pleasure and summoning her slutty side just enough to finish me off, without losing her class. She was clearly enthusiastic and she even licked her hands clean afterwards and said, “You taste good.” Without faltering from her ladylike ways, she demonstrated a dirty side also, which is perfect really. And having said all that, I still knew right then and there that it was over. Why?

This immediate cancellation of attraction began a personal inquisition. How could I think someone is so great one minute and then feel sexually negative towards them the next? The lady in question is physically very attractive, very smart and well educated, very well put together and very cool and laid back. She’s a diamond woman. But as soon as the relationship bells began to chime in the not so distant future, or even the, “I’m not seeing anyone else, only you” bells began to tinkle, the tiniest things became massive.

The small physical features that niggled me about her became blaring foghorns in my mind. The slightest personality trait that diverted from my own personality became a problematic hurdle. The intonation in the way she said certain things became Chinese water torture. The way she kissed became bland and not good enough. Even the way she smelled changed drastically, to the point where it was as if I was smelling a man — void of attraction.

This beggared the question, what the fuck is wrong with me? Granted, some of those traits that were undesirable for me were legitimate. The chemistry was off and the connection was off, but I still couldn’t help but feel fickle. To swing wildly, from pursuit to retreat, was shocking. I began to backtrack all previous flings or minor relationships.

I’ve been single for just over two years. I’ve been in my thirties since then. For the final four years of my twenties, I was deeply embedded in an intense relationship, with ecstatic highs and pitifully bleak lows. The classic tumultuous romance that young people go through. But, I learned so much about myself. The single man I am now is extraordinarily different from the single man I was before that relationship. I know myself so much better, which is a fantastic thing. But I’m beginning to wonder, do I know myself too much?

The furthest I’ve been able to go with anyone in the last few years is four or five dates. These have been desirable women. And, sometimes, when I look back I think to myself, you should have given her a better go. You should have given her more time. But, that lightbulb of attraction tripped out as if the fuse was faulty and there was no turning back. I want them to be like me, and the more I get to know them the less they are like me until eventually, I’m out. But I’ll never meet anyone exactly like me, will I?

With every potential girlfriend, sex has been an issue. The chemistry sometimes has been so wildly off that I couldn’t imagine returning for more. Is that shallow of me? Maybe I can teach someone how to move well in bed, how to flow and become unison, but can you teach passion? I’m not sure you can.

One lady I was with (and had huge hopes for) was so mechanical in bed I couldn’t believe it. It was as if she didn’t have a sexy bone in her body. And inexperience wasn’t the issue, she had been in long relationships and still didn’t develop the animalistic type of passion I would need from a relationship. At the age of thirty, if it hasn’t already arrived, I don’t think it ever will.

In contrast, the casual flings I’ve had are the ones that have been amazing in bed. I’ve had some sizzlingly salacious encounters with some beautiful women, but, then there are gaping personality divisions between us. You can’t teach someone fundamentals like humour or values, can you?

Maybe I’m just a modern man and relationships and commitment aren’t what they used to be. This, “picky” phenomenon amongst singletons seems to be heard often in common parlance now. I live in a multicultural city, as many people do; does that make it harder to meet someone when the variety is so wide? Back in the day, places weren’t so multicultural so you would brush shoulders with people who lived life just as you did, perhaps making it easier to find that person who slotted into your life with ease — values, humour, habits and all.

Online dating has thrown a complication amongst the pigeons, also. It’s so easy to give up on someone when you can catch a date with relative ease nowadays. We’re becoming dispensable. Single-use romances… like fucking paper coffee cups. Just discard over text when you feel like it and start swiping again — or text your fuckbuddy and see if she’s bored.

I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore. Meeting someone organically and in person feels like it would make them harder to discard, as that chance meeting would be intrinsically more precious.