Anatomically twins

The concept is that all penises and vaginas are similar in size, shape, texture, and function.

Making love involves some fairly predictable touching, rubbing, and penetration of the genitalia. Stimulation with penetration until orgasm is remarkably similar across genders, sexualities, ages, and cultures.

Yet, we never say, "Guess what? I just fell in love with the most sensitive, beautiful, vagina I've ever met," or "His penis makes me weak in the knees."

It's the person that matters the most — their personality, their sense of humor, their attractiveness — we tell ourselves.

Dick pic madness

Perhaps it's generational, but the idea of receiving a close-up photo of a naked penis or vagina is the absolute least sexy thing I can think of — have you ever heard of a Prettiest Penis or Vagina Contest? Aside from size, what would you judge them on, cuteness? sliminess? JPEGability?

Not because a penis or vagina can't be attractive —perhaps cutely dressed in a tiny Santa hat or gently spread open like a flesh-colored slip and slide — but because it assumes sexual engagement and pleasure is centered strictly around our genitalia.

Sure, we're attracted to someone's eyes or hair or body or smell or sense of humor, but we don't sexually fantasize about someone's eyes or hair, we close our eyes and imagine what we're going to do to their genitals.

When was the last time you had a crush on someone and fantasized about debating evolution versus creationism with them? You never have.

We have certain types, but when it comes to bringing something to a sexual level, we're all essentially identical.

Better sex just around the corner

We're initially attracted to someone's physical attractiveness but usually don't claim we're in love until we 'make love' with them.

Just like we're attracted to certain foods and flavors, we are predisposed to certain physical attributes in people.

Imagine if we had uniquely sized and shaped genitalia. And not everyone would be guaranteed a fit.

That is, two people could feel an enormous physical attraction and desire for each other but their genitalia simply would allow for penetration.

Imagine falling in love with someone and finding out sex was not possible anatomically. Or that there was a physical incompatibility.

Maybe great sex begets great sex — when was the last time you had an amazing piece of chocolate cake and said, "I'll never have a chocolate cake like this again, therefore, I'll never eat it again."

Of course not. When we have an earth-shatteringly pleasurable experience, we want it again, and again.

Damn you honeymoon stage…damn you!

So why do we center the beating heart of our love affairs around those mushy, bumpy, protruding sticks and warm, soft, cushiony tunnels?

We know sex ranges from okay to mind-blowing depending on its newness or level of physical attraction, whether we've been drinking, or how we feel emotionally.

We know it is common to have a honeymoon stage, where everything is magical and mysterious, and for the spine-tingling sex to gradually become more predictable and rote.

When we get tired of someone sexually, does that mean we don't love them anymore?

Does it mean we never loved them?

If you have sex with me, I'll love you forever

Perhaps there is a reason we're very different in terms of size, shape, personality, and disposition — yet our genitalia is extremely similar from one person to the next.

Maybe we're supposed to put animalistic sex in one bucket and everything else — attractiveness, desire, and fantasy — in another.

If sex and love are distinct — not overlapping — completely separate entities, then maybe we're actually falling in love with someone's hair, body, smell, smile, and personality…and simply mislabeling orgasmic sex during the honeymoon stage as, "love?"

It makes no sense logically. We date, have sex, fall in love, and throw it all away for a nearly identical penis or vagina.

And we end up having similar sex— the only difference is the newness of the person and perhaps some new technique which will quickly get old just like it did with your last lover. You know, the ones you swore you'd love forever.

"Love," stay in your lane; "Sex," stay in yours

Asked bluntly, can we love one person and still seek out fresh genitalia?

And why can't we ever seem to be satisfied sexually?

The answer is uniquely different for each person.

I, for example, lean old school. Just the thought of a girlfriend or wife allowing another penis (no matter how universally shaped it may be) to be inserted and retracted over and over again (despite my penis performing essentially the same function), is too much for my ego to effectively process.

Some are trying to have their cake and eat it too when it comes to experimenting with open relationships and multiple partners.

They're hoping to emotionally and psychologically separate the "act" of having sex with someone, from the "act" of loving someone for life.

In other words, sex is purely recreational — not a means to an end — but strictly a biological, animalistic behavior.

And love is everything else.

Summary

How those with multiple sexual partners suspend or eliminate their feelings of jealousy is a mystery to me.

If it's genuinely possible to have multiple sex partners, while retaining a single "soulmate" as the love of your life, it would seem to solve a lot of problems.

Imagine if cheating, wasn't cheating — just a lifestyle choice.

Again, I'm stuck in the mental trap of thinking "true love" means everything is centered strictly around the two people in the relationship — especially sex.

But I admit, it's cognitively dissonant — we know sex cannot be the driving factor in a loving relationship, forever.

It seems, particularly with the proliferation of dating apps, we're conducting a real-time love-sex experiment.

We swipe. We ghost. We breadcrumb. We hook-up. We lie. We deceive. We hurt.

Where it all lands, nobody really knows.

I suspect we will further be separated into different love-sex camps.

On one end will be the traditional conservatives who see sex as inseparable from love and strive through willpower, devotion, and principle to remain with one person until death do they part.

And then there will be dozens, if not hundreds, of splintered new-age, progressive love-sex lifestyles — ranging from gender differentiation to multiple sex partners, to a complete redefinition of family, cohabitation, and loyalty.

So how do we know if we're worth more than our genitalia? Well, if there ever is a museum strictly for dick pics, I'd submit mine.

Mine will be the one with extraordinary character and personality. The one standing erect when confronted with adversity.

Sure, mine will look just like every other dick. But trust me, it's not like everyone else's.

Mine comes with an extendable LED light to guide it and a teeny digital camera to memorialize our love-making — from the inside, out.

"Choose me," mine will be shouting. "Please, choose me…"