The purpose of my life is sex?

When I think about what would make my life the best, I find myself thinking that it's having sex regularly with someone I'm in love with. Somewhat confirming this, I used to have a girlfriend that I had amazing sex with regularly. I literally couldn't/can't believe it was actually real. I told her I felt like I was in a dream.

Yet, I don't think this goal, either unobtained or obtained, can withstand life's inevitable tragedy. If I never obtain it, then I will go through life feeling like I have missed the mark. If I do obtain it, I think it's likely, for a myriad of reasons, that it eventually won't satisfy me.

Some scenarios that I think are very likely: After some time, the liveliness of the sex will die down. If my partner is aware that my purpose in life is a relationship with them, they will likely feel a tremendous burden. What's even more frightening is that there's a great chance that the relationship could end in a real catastrophe, like divorce. In that case, the pain would very likely eclipse all the pleasure that came before.

People don't see me as an epicurean. I eat healthy, exercise, read books, am considered intelligent and kind, moral, etc. I truly care about bigger things. I want to see the world become a better place for everyone. I want to learn more about how things work and who we are as humans. I'm partly wholesome, and that part feels sick and worried about the fact that my ruling drive is for sex.