What I Learned The First Time I Had Sex

It is an indisputable fact that I’m a perfectionist. I obsess over the most minute and tangential details. I ruminate on the inane. I become so preoccupied with the particulars that I lose sight of the big picture. Whoever coined the phrase, “You can’t see the forest for the trees” was definitely referring to someone like me.

My first time having sex, however, caught me more than a little off guard. Despite my best laid plans—plans that involved losing my virginity in a suite at the Ritz to someone of Jared Leto caliber—it happened spontaneously, and I had no control over the details. When my crush whipped out the condom he’d been trying to use on me for the last six months, I surprised both of us when, this time, I didn’t say no. The imperfections quickly became apparent as I began my characteristic, stream-of-consciousness obsessing. This hurts. Is it too late to enter a convent? Can Jews enter convents? I’m going to need stitches. If I have to get stitches, then my mom is going to find out. If my mom finds out, I am totally going to be grounded. Why is he still wearing that stupid hat? I am going to rip that dumb thing off his head. That’s better. Wait‚ what the heck is this music? Is this Cypress Hill? I’m losing my virginity to Cypress Hill?! Read more

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