Canto V

Yes, great idea, I thought, when a friend suggested we write on the topic of lust. I began closing my apps. Gallery, Messenger, browser, dating app.

Of course.

The cold wind of personal recognition that I too am a dirty sinner destined to the pits.

In Dante's mind, the lustful don't have it too bad in the second circle. In fact, they have the lightest punishment (how generous!) They are swayed, standing naked against cold winds, huddling against their lovers for all eternity.

Just kind of sounds like the average LTR to me.

My sorry ass At the moment feels it possible to have a lust for lust — a desire to have somebody to huddle against. A desire to brave cold winds in company rather than alone. Yet I have no certainty whether having a desire for desire would have a poet caricature me in his epic, in heaven, or in hell.

I can see why the common theological position calls lust dangerous. Not as a sin against another so much as a condition: swayed by the winds, falling into the arms of lovers, never settled, always seeking refuge in the next. The image is probably more psychologically accurate than we give it credit for.

But longing for a lover is human. The only punishments in that, surely, are the tinder dates from hell.

And still no refuge in the arms of a beloved.

A punishment due either way, it seems.

Though the verdict is on me, not on lust. Lust has had bad press. Dante painted the worst of it — the swaying, the wind, the never-quite-arriving. But there is another face to it.

So saying this, i do sincerely hope you make love to your partner if you have one — and I hope they make love to you too. That would be lust coinciding with love, though distinguishing the two is the real difficulty.

Provided you live outside the bedroom, I can't see why a good fuck could be a problem. The French say of someone who's grumpy: elle est mal baisée, and you know what? They're not wrong. A bountiful romp does boost your mood. 

Lust and love together make a consuming power couple. Love on its own brings heartache. And lust, you must know, is never alone, is it? 

Maybe that's why love hurts, and lust breaks hearts.

But the same carnal force ungoverned becomes an intrusion. Lust offered is one thing. Lust imposed is another.

When it comes to lust, if ever you're overcome by what you see and cannot show respect nor self-control, we should probably just look away.

If our eyes offend us— not because we’re disgusted but because we’re too pleased — just cast the eye away. No need to look too hard, and no need to pluck it out either.

Just exercise a little self-control.

Particularly, dear male readers, women can see in your eyes when you are saying to yourself 'she'd be a good lay' because like it or lump it, the statement is written across your faces, and yes. It does make many of us uncomfortable. That look of lust when you've known somebody for 30 seconds, is wholly inappropriate. Keep your dirty little thought to yourself for the comfort of others, please, and if those thought arise, just look away so we don't have to know what you're thinking. Please.

That’s being said, Recently I’ve become a little prudish in my own lust. Partly because I don't want others to be made uncomfortable, and partly — quite frankly — because not many people truly get me worked up like that. Finding somebody attractive is not the same as lusting after them. Lust, for me, is a mutual endeavour- you both want it, and I’m aiming to reserve lust for those, erm, special moments

I've taken a step back. I'm not interested in being looked at anymore, and if a man looks at me too soon with that statement written in his eyes, it's an immediate ick. 

This has proved liberating — liberating in the sense that I won't settle for somebody who cares only about the box instead of the content. There is more inside my mind, heart, and soul than what appears skin deep.

I think we value lust far more than genuine sexual attraction, which takes longer to develop. Real chemistry can happen in the first few minutes — yes — but more often, that flash is just lust for getting your rocks off. A desire for a big o over a want to share with another.

If lust is your vice, so be it. Each of us has to do the work of governing our desires.

But for myself — I'd still rather brave those cold winds with somebody I love and deeply desire. And again I’d rather be swayed alone than somebody I’m not that down for. 

I’m here For a long time, not just a fun time. Whether that puts me in Dante's second circle or somewhere warmer is not, in the end, mine to decide.