28 april 2000
a virgin at 31?

Cambridge, England ... 1986. It was the summer between my junior and senior years of high school, and I was on this study-abroad thing taking classes for college credit. There was a whole group of us, American teenagers at a foreign university. I liked the ease with which I could order and purchase alcohol, the complete freedom I had to make an ass of myself.

On a thursday night we were celebrating the end of a grueling day of exams. I remember purchasing a bottle of wine for five quid and chugging it. After that we played rum+coke quarters in my dorm room. I vaguely remember jumping out of the third floor window with a firehose tied around my midsection, rappeling down the side of the building. In retrospect, it was the most drunk I had ever been in my life.

By midnight we had paired off into smaller groups and couples. My companion for the night had a "reputation," which she seemed to be proud of -- to a rather inexperienced lad like myself, it would have been quite intimidating, but the alcohol took care of that.

I have vague recollections of lying on the famous Backs, in the tall grass, kissing, groping, being undressed, the sense of being lost in a cloud. To this day I cannot recall her name.

I woke up alone, naked, still nighttime. The surface of the Cam was still, and the only sound came from two punts tied to the opposite bank at Kings College, bumping against each other, as if caught in some pseudo-restrained mating ritual of their own.

I remember so much, yet so little, about that night. I somehow made it back to my bed, was violently ill, and fell asleep. It took me nearly a day to recover, and yet no-one looked at me funny, not even the girl in question, and I still to this day don't know what I did or didn't do with her that night. I was afraid to ask her, and I never did. I think about that night still, and I wonder what happened, or didn't happen.

I dreamt last night that I lost my virginity on the backs in Cambridge. But it wasn't me at 16 -- it was _this_ me, almost fifteen years later. The girl was faceless, and the dream was devoid of emotion. And I have no idea what that means. But it got me thinking about the past.

I had so convinced myself that there was no sex that night. All through the rest of high school and college, I forced a sort of innocence upon myself, convinced that the simple act of penetrating another would turn me into an evil person. When it came to physical intimacy, I'd do anything and everything short of actual intercourse. It was like I was trying to hold onto an innocence that wasn't there. Or was it? Is it?

It's funny, though by the time I graduated college I had mostly gotten over this whole avoidance-of-sex thing, it still pops up from time to time. Just over a year ago Gabby had to lecture me about how when a woman invites me into her apartment at 3am, I shouldn't go in if all I want to do is talk. In that case, the woman in question called Gabby the next day and bitched for about an hour about how I had somehow rejected and insulted her by not jumping her bones. Forgive me for not feeling that I knew her well enough. I admit that I carry a bit of baggage when it comes to sex, which is ironic these days considering how horny I am ...

Perhaps the problem is that I haven't lost my sexual innocence yet. Then again, is that really a problem?

Sometimes I feel like a virgin at 31. (sound cue: madonna instrumental in the background) I'm not sure if that's a problem either.

I think everything, the dream, these other thoughts ... all springs from my conversation with Jen the other night, where she mentioned that what I need now is a "fun and physical relationship" with a "young nubile 20-something who can rock my world" -- and I replied that I've never had casual sex in my life. Never too late to start? Maybe I'm game, if only I could do it without the guilt that I foreshadow.

Jen may be right. In my current state of life, the only way I'll get laid is in a casual sense, because I'm not ready for any kind of serious "relationship" right now. I just don't know if I'm willing (or even able) to go there. Maybe if I was seduced ...

Jeez, I can't believe I'm writing this shit on my lunch break. Back to work. Back to normal thoughts. Bye.

28 april 1999: didn't write

28 april 1998: restart: Mindless work is really no good for me right now. Mindless work involving the Windows operating system is even worse.

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