Adventures in Dating, memoir, relationships, teenage years, Uncategorized

A Numbers Game

I’ll get back to writing about my surgery later – I have a few things I want to record, such as my tactile hallucinations and what it was like to actually go under… but first I have another topic on my mind that I wanted to write about before I lose the inspiration.

So I got involved in another sexually based conversation with some lady friends – I’m sure it appears that that is all me and my friends discuss. I swear I am not always talking sex over cheap cigarettes and wine… However; it just seems that those are the conversations that create the most inspiration and complex thought processes in me.

So here you go; I was talking sex. More specifically we were talking about our “number” or how many men we’ve slept with. Usually these conversations have erred towards me feeling a little awkward; a little slutty. Somehow I usually have this brief discussion with women that have only the one – their husband – or perhaps two because of the one dalliance they had before getting married.

I always felt I wouldn’t have been happy with such a low number  because I can’t imagine not experiencing more before settling down. I can’t imagine settling for possibly a horrible sex life for the rest of your life and not even knowing any better.

Regardless, conversations in which my number is higher can be a little awkward. I start wondering if I SHOULD have been happy with less. This time, however; there was a good mixture of less experienced versus more experienced, with my number sitting comfortably in the middle.

I did feel slight jealousy that some ladies were double or more my number though. Wondering how much I’ve missed out on. For those of you that haven’t kept up, or don’t want to go back to read and try to figure it out, my number is 6 – this does not include the sexual escapades with Wyatt or anything I may have done with Justin… this number is simply the “all the way” number.

I’ve felt before that I may not have sown enough seeds, as it were, and now I wonder if I had slept with more men – would I be more satisfied? Who can ever be truly satisfied in every aspect of their life though?

The thing is, though I wouldn’t mind having added a few extra randoms to my repertoire, that’s not even want I really want to have experienced. Though it would have been nice to be a little more carefree and have a few random hookups that didn’t result in an STD or any other entanglement.

Basically, there are men I wish I had slept with back then. Whether there was never the apparent opportunity or I just never took it/tried hard enough to get them … or they didn’t appear interested… There are certain men I regret not being with, even for a night.

There are men still I would love to fall into bed with if the guilt of it wouldn’t eat me alive. Maybe if I had sown those oats before I got married at 20 I would feel differently now; I don’t know.

I’m not ashamed of my number though. I am not ashamed that I can’t only put up the one finger when these discussions are had. I just wish sometimes that the count would take more than my two hands to figure out.

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