A couple of weeks ago I was shoe shopping with one of my long-legged beauties and she was telling me about her latest dating escapade.
“Remember that guy from my gym I was telling you about?” she asked.
“The one who wasn’t wearing any underwear and you saw clear up his shorts and got a full-on view of his package?”
“Yes! That one!”
“Yeah, I don’t forget stuff like that.”
“Well he contacted me on Tinder!”
Tinder. My friends are crazy for it. It sends you alerts of datable people in your nearby vicinity and if you give them a thumbs up the connection is on. You can easily pass on datables who don’t interest you. I am NOT on Tinder…yet. Mainly because my friends keep sending me photos of men who post penis pics—we’re talkin’ hard-ons through their clothing. WTF?!
“So…have you gotten an in-person look yet?” I asked.
“We just went on one date. I don’t think he’s my guy, but he’s cute and a little nerdy and bookish and I liked that.”
“Why don’t you think he’s your guy?”
“I just didn’t get that feeling. But I was looking forward to a second date to get to know him better. And then I never heard from him again.”
“Aw man,” I said. “Because you are wonderful and too beautiful to look at sometimes.”
“Yes, I think I was too dynamic for him.”
“Without a doubt. You stunned him dumb.”
She continues on to the point of the story. “Then yesterday, I was masturbating. And right as I was orgasming I started sobbing and I cried out, “I’m never going to get married!”
The only way to respond to that is to laugh. So we laughed for a good 30 seconds. And then we broke down the crygasm.
I had never heard the proper terminology for it before, but I’ve certainly experienced crygasms, and would say most emotionally in touch women have.
Urban Dictionary defines the crygasm as: An orgasm so powerful it leaves you with tears streaming down your face. Usually happens when two people are in a heightened state of emotional and/or physical connectedness.
Gosh. That sounds wonderful. But I’ve only ever had the pleasure of a crygasm when I’m alone…just my lucky fingers and me. I will orgasm. It will be powerful and wonderful just like the fantasy that accompanied it. And then, right after, a single tear will fall and travel down my face and I’ll catch it with my tongue. I will sigh. And then I will get up and wash my hands.
Perhaps technically this is not a crygasm, as I don’t cry precisely during the orgasm. The tears do not fall because the orgasm was so powerful. They fall because following such an intense release comes a pervasive vacuum of loneliness. It’s that second between an inhale and an exhale that gets you.This emptiness can be felt even when with another, and sometimes more intently so.
Ah…wait. I have had a crygasm during intercourse with a man once. I was leaving for a year to study abroad and we were having sex for the very last time. I cried because I was so very very sad. I cried through the orgasm. I cried through the car ride to the airport. I cried walking onto the plane. The stewardess had to help me to my seat I was crying so hysterically and could barely hold myself up. That was a worthy crygasm.
I’m not saying that a crygasm only expresses discontent or disconnection; I’m certain many happy tears have been shed when two people are in the throes of passion, especially if one person happens to be impotent and successfully completes the deed…at last.
I guess what I’m saying is that crygasms are perfectly normal. A once and a while crygasm for the single gal is healthy. You are taking care of your needs both inside the bedroom and out. And you are acknowledging your emotions.
But honeys, if you’re crying every time you masturbate, then we gotta fill that life up…with adventure, with laughter, with success and gratitude so that the space between breaths doesn’t catch you so off guard. Because when your man swipes right to like you on Tinder (and he will) you don’t want to be all swollen-eyed. So whaddya say? Maybe it’s time for some Tinder action? Right after that crygasm, of course…