Life without sex

Hi, I'm new here. I probably don't know 100% of the subject, but I have my doubts.

Sex is the biological classification of organisms into male and female based on their physical, genetic and reproductive characteristics, such as chromosomes and sexual organs.

Sorry, sorry, that wasn't the introduction, I have a story to tell you down here:

Once upon a time, there was a young man who lived among memories. His life was filled with moments that he hadn't finished living, but that he kept with the same intensity as great stories. It wasn't that he chose to be alone, or that he lacked opportunities to find someone. Rather, something in his nature led him to live in the spaces in between, where feelings were clearer in his memory than in his present.

Every time he met someone new, memories of the past would envelop him. He wondered if he would ever feel the same spark he once felt, that feeling that had kept him awake at night, imagining what the future would be like next to someone special. But that feeling always seemed to be in his memories, rather than in the present.

Sometimes, he would sit alone in his room, looking out the window, thinking about those moments of closeness, about conversations that had never led to anything more. The smiles, the gestures, even the shared silences were more vivid when he recalled them in his mind. Thus, he lived between the present and his memories, as if the experiences he had had were more than enough to fill a void that he didn't know how to describe.

It was difficult to explain to others why he was still single, why something always seemed to get in the way. It wasn't fear of love, nor a lack of desire. Simply, the past was a safer refuge, where feelings were clear, where there was no uncertainty or unfulfilled expectations.

And although his life continued, as the days, months and years passed, there was always the small possibility that, one day, someone would take him out of that bubble of memories. Maybe then, the present would finally win over the past. But in the meantime, he continued to live in that space between what was and what could be, waiting, without hurry, for something that still had no name.