The following story may or may not be real:
Four years. It had been four years since the last time I had felt the warmth and comfort of a woman. You see, I had moved back home in my mid-twenties to return to school and somewhere along the way I lost myself.
I decided to return home for my education primarily, however to be honest I needed to leave. I had been working in bars and nightclubs and the lifestyle had become a grind. For a quiet, conservative, and introverted guy like myself, being stuck in an industry fueled by cocaine, lust, and posturing facilitated the beginning of an escalating internal crisis. Despite my good looks, confident posture, and a past which might cause one to think I had experienced many sexual partners, the truth is I hadn’t. And despite my willingness to take shots with coworkers and patrons, and the fact that I was never seen without a joint in my hand, I didn’t like to party either. I felt like an imposter, an actor performing beneath the bright lights of the main stage, only with a little more bass in the background.