It was 2017. I was depressed (well, more depressed than I’d ever been); the mysteries of stochastic calculus were eluding me to the extent that I would later fail a class, and I was stuck watching Bitcoin ride to unforeseen heights while having been liquidated a few weeks prior.
It was a cold winter weekend in Toronto when I decided it’d be a good time to lose my v-card. Like many holders of that not-rare card, I was generally pretty affable and social. I had lots of friends, a decent part-time job, and was pretty educated… yet, I never felt comfortable with actually getting intimate. My sex life was generally restricted to online daliances on Reddit, where some lovely lady and I would exchange passionate drivel while exposing our respective special-parts to one another. I never felt really crushed or depressed by the idea of being a virgin, but it did stick out to me that there was an expanse leading towards adulthood that I’d yet to cross (spoiler: it didn’t change anything).