As she enters her eleventh sexless week, New York resident Arina Kadivar has become increasingly grateful for her vague, confusing, and often-stressful sex dreams.
“I use to consider this subset of sex dream sort of disarming or neutral at best,” says Kadivar. “But now that they’re the most action I can possibly get, I am extremely grateful and horny for them.”
Though historically Kadivar might have brushed off dreams of cuddling with Katie Couric while battling panicked confusion over whether it was romantic or maternal, she is now embracing them wholeheartedly.
“God, I had the hottest dream last night,” Kadivar says. “I was taking a guided tour of a historical property, and The Phantom of the Opera was the tour guide, but I was supposed to be babysitting Prince Louis of Cambridge and I had lost him.”
“There wasn’t any sex per se, but there was just a potent vibe between me and Phantom,” Kadivar adds. “I mean, visually he was my tenth-grade gym teacher, but I just knew it was Phantom. I wish I could go back there.”
With growing time and abstinence, the qualifications for what is deemed a sex dream have also become more liberal.
“At this point, I would say a sex dream is any dream with underlying sexual energy,” explains Kadivar. “For example, last week I had a sex dream about a perfectly round, metallic orb. That’s all I can say on that for now.”
While Kadivar would appreciate positive sexually explicit dreams now more than ever, she maintains an admirably bright outlook on the whole situation.
“Would I enjoy some genital action? Perhaps a nude body or a charged touch? Definitely,” she says. “I definitely would. That would be great.”
“But hey,” Kadivar adds. “I recently had a dream where I actually got to make out with someone, and then my teeth fell out in their mouth, and they just screamed and screamed, so, yeah, that was not one of the better ones.”
Keep dreaming, girl!