7/1/17
Sometimes, I wish I were a lesbian. It would make my life very simple. Sometimes, the right boy who comes along will fuck your life all the way up, and you know it. You know what they want, and you know what they’ll do and say to get it. Just, sometimes, on the right day, you want the same.
Like Mark, my little sacrificial virgin. Nothing little about him, actually. Fit guy, caramel skin, ten million dollar smile. I didn’t believe him when he told me that he was a virgin. He said he was a late bloomer.
I met him at a freshman party I was misled into, and he was the first person there to not make me feel gross and ancient. He looked like he was just excited to actually be talking with a girl. He was very bad at being smooth. Adorably so. I mean, I can’t fault the guy for being passionate about political science. I just wasn’t sure how to tell him, “Hey. It’s okay. You’ve already made it into my pants,” without coming off as a slut.