Diary of a Nymphomaniac

As a child, you spent

hours on this swing.

Why the long face?

Can I ask you a question?

- Sure.

Did you have another

love before grandpa?

He was the only man in my life.

I married because I had no choice,

but I learned to love him.

Back then they said:

"A woman without a

trade has two options:

Marriage or prostitution."

That's about the same.

What if you could start anew?

- Would Pepe be the man of your life?

- No.

If I could start anew

I'd get f***ed as much as I could.

Everyone should share your ideas.

A man who gets laid is a super macho.

If it's a woman, she's a slut.

- Sexual equality.

- Forget what they say!

If they made love more

and spoke less...

It would be better.

- It's not that simple.

What isn't?

Pay no mind, grandma.

- It's hard to explain.

- You know what you should do?

Look.

Jot down your doubts, ideas,

problems on a sheet of paper,

but interrogatively

so you can see them from

outside and understand them.

I did that at you age,

and it helped a lot.

And I still do,

but so as not to forget.

Dinner is ready.

Come on.

When you made love with grandpa,

how was it?

You're very curious.

Come, I've made shellfish

meatballs for you.

Enough for you to take to Barcelona.

I lost my virginity on

the 17th of July, 1993,

at 2:
46 in the morning.

It was during a vacation period,

when I was 15.

You never forget

a moment like that.

Are you okay?

- Yes.

I remember I felt nothing,

just deep shame for

not having bled, and

that strange feeling of

having pissed in bed.

I left with the excuse

of the toilet,

with the feeling my experience

with Edouard

couldn't be like that.

A feeling that

made me go back to him.

I was lacking something.

But, what are you doing here?

- Again.

- Once again?

No, hundreds of times.

Hundreds of times.

That strange release

of energy aroused

in me a desire to communicate

through my body,

a curiosity to experience

sensations through a kiss,

a caress or the contact

of my skin.

14 years after my

first experience with Edouard

I live in Barcelona and still have

the same urge to experiment

through my body.

DIARY OF A NYMPHOMANIAC

My diary, it was here.

- You're writing a diary?

- I follow your advice.

- I didn't tell you to.

Just to jot down your problems

for a better perspective.

Diaries are for lonely people.

That's not true.

They have something to tell.

Because their life is different.

And they always hope that

someone will discover it,

read it to get to know the

true personality of the author.

Right, because they feel lonely.

It's the third blackout this week.

- The dark still scares you.

- This lighter doesn't work.

Don't speak badly

of me in your diary.

Of course not.

Could you write something for me?

That you're not alone,

that I'm with you.

It's about time.

I'm unbearable in the dark.

Unbearable.

You smell of fields,

of wet, recently cut grass.

Why don't you stay over?

No, I can't.

Tomorrow I have a meeting and

must prepare my presentation.

Alex, why don't you ever stay

to sleep with me? Please?

You don't want me to sleep.

No.

Don't you ever get tired?

Val, I can't keep up

with your pace.

Besides, I told you

I have a meeting tomorrow.

Come on.

Hassan.

Valerie.

Nice to hear you.

You disappeared into thin air

but I found you?

I'll be in Barcelona this week.

I want to see you?

- How about Thursday?

- Okay, I'll call you. A kiss.

- Who was that?

- Hassan.

- He's coming?

- I'll see him Thursday.

Back to my desk,

things are getting rough.

What is?

They're restructuring.

I've heard that

ever since I'm here.

Yeah, well...

I've been asked what

I feel when I make love.

It's like a mix of energy with the

other person that makes me fly

and merge with the cosmos.

The energy of my orgasm is a

small part of me that goes

and ends up mixing

with the universe.

A sidereal trip that

takes me to infinity.

In my country they say Allah

told the south wind that he'd

create the Arabian horse from it.

"So be it", said the wind.

He held a puff and tied it

to the horse's mane

so it wouldn't forget where

it came from,

but it turned out to be so fast

and cunning that no one could

ride it, and it was Ishmael,

the first faithful, who was able

to tame one of them

and called it Kuhaylan,

the Black Antelope.

You're more difficult to tame

than that first horse.

I don't know how to name you.

Are you calling me wild?

Yes.

I think I've never

f***ed you in a bed.

We can do that now, if you want.

Although... I've just had

a better idea.

Here, look.

Where are they?

You've hidden them again?

No.

Not now, Hassan, please.

I don't feel like it right now,

not today, no.

Here they are!

No, please.

No.

Not today.

Yes, yes, today.

Look, look, come on.

Good morning.

Be careful, Val, you're late again.

Want one?

I don't want to even see them,

I need coffee.

I bought a dress

for Marcos' wedding.

When I tried it on I realized

I couldn't zip it up.

So I cried like a baby and

then I called you.

You knew about Hassan.

I forgot, but I never find

you when I need you anyway.

I'm thinking of publishing

an ad to find a boyfriend.

An ad?

What do you mean?

You have to stop being obsessed.

How can you find him not going out?

I don't want just one-night stands.

You must try

before falling in love.

I need to fall in love, Val,

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