Sincerely, this time.

An empty promise a year ago said I would return. Well, that didn't happen.

It is only as of late that sex has once again been on my mind, and questions about morality and sex are stirring once again that I am returning to this blog.

I seem to have an expiration date for interest in a significant other that can't seem to surpass the one year mark. I lost interest in my first two boyfriends after 7-9 months, and I blamed it on youth and immaturity. Boyfriend three was more or less a fling, and boyfriend four (my last one) started with an explosion.

For the first time, I thought about long-term commitment, possibly even marriage. I connected with my innate girly side that I thought didn't exist, looking up wedding rings, gowns and even possible venues to hold the glorious ceremony and reception. Call me a late bloomer, considering this was the type of thing I saw female friends do since middle school.

This illusion lasted for a year, and for the first time, I was absolutely positive I was using the word "love" because I was in love, not because it felt obligatory to say because I was dating a person for so long that it would be deemed strange if I didn't say it.

Or perhaps, on a subconscious level, I wanted it to work out because I lost my virginity to him. As per a previous post, I mentioned it happened in a less than ideal way. We were only dating for two weeks and not officially boyfriend/girlfriend status when heavy petting lead to the unrolling of one thing into another. And so to summarize without retyping my entire previous post, I faced months of insecurity over whether or not he loved me, or just loved having sex with me.

Fortunately enough for me, by sheer dumb luck, he was a man of integrity and responsibility, and wanted to pursue a long-term, serious relationship because he was falling in love with me. Our first time was unprotected, and the next morning, we had a hypothetical talk over what would happen if I was pregnant. He was anti-abortion, and said if anything happened, he would take the responsibility to make sure I was well taken care of and believed no child should grow up without a father. At the time I was a little taken aback by the entire talk. I was shocked that someone who I had dated for so short was already deliberating long term plans for the unlikely chance that I was pregnant (he pulled out). And I was absolutely certain that under the unlikely circumstance that I was pregnant, I would get an abortion without question. Why would I ruin my life and future because of one night? So I found it odd and noble that he was willing to deal with the situation head on, where I would've just--for the lack of a better word--aborted it.

After a few months, my insecurities were settled and I knew he loved me beyond the sex (as was proven by the lack of it by the end of the relationship). I know an abundance of male friends who've been in similar situations and walked away without a second look, adding another count to the number of girls they've bedded and ignoring the girl's feelings and misfortune. But remarkably, I met a rare diamond in the rough; someone who didn't see sex like a game and ultimately fell in love with me and I fell right back.

But in retrospect, and about a year and half after my monumental virginity loss, I do question if the relationship would've lasted half as long if sex didn't play a factor in the beginning. Maybe I just felt a need to make sure it did work out so that I could hold onto a thread of my former beliefs that sex should be saved till marriage. That way, if we did get married, all the prior sex was just a deposit that was going to be paid in full anyways.

Fast forward to today, I am now newly single. Single, but not exactly available, which I'll get to later since this odd new status is what inspired me to reboot this blog (finally, I have stories and rants to type up!)

But back to the original topic of losing interest -- I am deathly afraid of my own symptoms and patterns. No matter how "in love" I consider myself, ultimately at some point or another, I get defeated by becoming distracted. Perhaps the argument is that I was never truly in love if I fall away from it so easily. I find that we change and grow our definition of love from each relationship we get into. What I thought was love from boyfriend one till four has increased exponentially. So how can we discover the upper limits of what unconditional love truly is and truly can become if we don't keep moving on to find that something better?

This belief has been ingrained in my mind in more categories than one, not just regarding relationships but also sex in general, career moves, and almost everything else; the hunt and hunger for "better."

It always perplexes me to meet people (the majority of people I date, actually) who are just happy with what they have and simply don't care about what else is out there. They're happy, that's all that matters, who cares if there's better? I have an extremely hard time grasping this concept. If there is even just the slightest chance that something better exists out there, I don't like to know that I've forgone the opportunity. Which makes me extremely weak in situations that test my loyalty.

True, during the honeymoon phase of a relationship where I am inseparable from my boyfriend, I wouldn't dare dream of looking at anyone else. I am happy, content, pleased - why would I even care for anything else? There's nothing better! But these moments of content are temporary, and I find myself relapsing into becoming the curious kitten I'd always been.

And so I'm scared to enter into another relationship where ultimately, I might just hurt someone who doesn't need the pain -- again.

To be continued...

Hello

Hello my dear readers, if you are all still out there.

I get emails every so often asking where I have disappeared off to and if I plan to return.

The simple truth is I find the life of monogamy and having a single sex partner very much a bore and not worthy of sharing. However, some of you do not. A lot of you are interested in the psychology behind virginity loss, and let me tell you, I have a lot of deep issues even till this day (after 7 months of dating) that circle around how my virginity was lost and the unfair number of partners my partner has had over me (0-5).

But, I have come to a realization. I still have a lot of stories from my virgin days that I have yet to share. Not only that, but shit, having sex PERIOD brings out a lot of stories. Some good, some sad, and some very, very sad.

So stay tuned.

- (Former) Sex Deprived Virgin

Sex Deprived Virgin No More

On May 7, 2008, somewhere between 3:30 am and 12 pm, I lost my virginity.

It was gone in a fit of hormones and short term desires; a night of temporary passion in exchange for the last shred of my self-control and restraint that I worked so hard to retain for the past 20 years.

It happened nowhere near how I ever expected or hoped for it to happen. In short, it just sort of "happened." I was in denial immediately after, but I could not lie to myself. My virginity was lost.

It was with a boy I met last summer through friends. I developed a small crush on him due to the fact I found him an enigma. He was mysterious and no one really knew much about him. His personality was witty, sarcastic at times even, with a hint of danger in everything he did just because he hid everything so well. Being curious by nature, I was set to unravel his pretenses and figure out just what was underneath.

It took almost an entire year before I was finally able to barely scratch the surface of his mind. By chance, we happened to spend some one-on-one time with each other and as he got to know me a little better, he realized that perhaps I was at least somewhat worthy to be given a chance in the relationship department.

Two weeks of talking and going on dates later, I was in his bedroom one night playing "just the tip." Eventually, the tip became... well, more than just the tip. A couple inches of his dick was going in and out of me at a good pace for quite a few minutes as I awaited my climax.

Shortly after, I paused to ask myself... am I still a virgin? It wasn't full sex in the sense that his entire dick was not in my vaginal canal, but the concept was the same: I just had intercourse. My virginity was lost.

The hours and days that followed were ones that gave me much anxiety. After leaving his place the next day, I immediately called six of my closest friends to reveal to them what had just happened to me. For some reason, I felt virginity loss had to be an accepted thing, and I needed my friend's reassurance that everything was going to be "okay," and that there was nothing wrong with what I had just done. After being reassured by more than a handful of people, my mind eased a bit.

But the truth was I was not okay.

Although my friends didn't judge me or find what I did wrong, the truth was I was supremely disappointed in myself. If someone told me this was the way my virginity was going to be lost even just one month beforehand, I would have expected myself to at least cry and feel ashamed of what had happened. The fact that I didn't react this way at all surprised me. Although I was not pleased with the way in which things occurred, I honestly couldn't say I completely regretted it. I would have liked to delay it just because it would cause less insecurities later on in the relationship so that I wouldn't question if I was "too easy," or if I was only being wanted for the sex. But overall, I think I was nearly a little relieved that it was gone.

The days that followed were filled with contemplation over whether I should continue on my sexual escapades or attempt to grow the relationship by holding back on the sex.

I always knew that once the dam broke, the waters were just going to pour. I didn't really expect myself to question the validity of my feelings and question how much I even valued this person whom I was sharing my most intimate moments with. I felt I was perhaps choosing two very concise and different paths. Either continue to embrace sex and fully explore it to its depth, or attempt to salvage the relationship and minimize if not completely retard the sex.

Sadly, I was embellished by temptation as I began to walk the first path. The sex that continued on henceforth was a little disappointing to say the least, and even a little embarrassing at certain points. Things I know probably wouldn't have made the slightest difference had two people developed feelings for one another, rather than getting into the deed simply to relieve physical desires.

Disappointing, it was all just so disappointing. It took several days for things to finally sink in and for me to realize just what had happened and just what my actual reaction was: disappointment.

And so, this blog is now no longer a valid part of my life.

(At least not the name.)

The "When" and "How" Question

With hormones raging and the constant curiosity about what sex is like, I often ask myself the infamous question: when and how will I lose my virginity?

And so my imagination begins to wander: The lights are dim. Candles are lit. We look at each other embarrassingly as the moment to slip on that condom becomes increasingly awkward. Finally, it is securely wrapped around his penis and we get in the old fashioned missionary position. He pokes and prods in my area for a while until his missile finally finds my target. The initial entrance is one of struggle and slight pain, but we adjust the motions accordingly until the discomfort ebbs away and off we go!

My requirements for this ideal situation goes as follows:
1) Also a virgin
2) Someone I love

As I evaluate my (short) list, I have come to the realization that I have the mindset and standards of a 14-16 year old. In fact, being 20 going on 21, it's becoming virtually impossible to find fellow virgins within my age range to copulate with. In fact, a slight double standard sets in, and I'll actually think something is wrong with you if you're a guy over 20 who has yet to lose your virginity.

Yes, none of this seems to make much common sense, but the truth is my list is starting to look a little more like this:
1) Someone I love
2) Good looking

I at least want to be able to look back and recall that my first time was with an incredibly handsome, lean, cut, and well endowed young man. Although I've eliminated the virgin requirement in order to keep up with the times, I'd like to avoid the stigma of being "just another number," particularly if that number extends beyond 1 or 2.

But ultimately, it comes down to one requirement that I am willing to overlook anything else for:
1) I will not regret it

It seems that the only guarantee this will happen is if I wait for marriage. And well, let's be honest here, I don't intend on marrying anyone anytime soon and waiting to have sex when I'm near or past my thirties just REALLY seems impractical (and loserish). So ultimately, I have come to the realization that my one and only requirement is something that cannot be fulfilled. I think underneath it all, I already knew this subconsciously, which is probably one of the reasons why I've held back, especially for so long now.

And so I wait for the inevitable day where I just get sick of waiting and just start fucking.

It's the broken dream of a girl.

Pouty Lips

Sometimes the first thing you notice on the opposite sex is their eyes. Occasionally it's something else, say breasts. Or an ass. Recently, I've discovered my infatuation: pouty lips.

I don't mean the Angelina Jolie type, but the ones that protrude ever so slightly to form the shape of something I'd devour in a second.

Case A: Elijah Wood

Albeit the fact that he is a hobbit and a little grungy and bloodied up here, those are the lips. Yum.

Case B: Matsuyama Kenichi

Japanese actor I stumbled upon that really kicked off this infatuation. He's got the lips and really fucking knows how to use them too.

Can I get a hallelujah?

Falling Off

Every so often, I meet rather interesting people who I have difficulty understanding. These individuals and I are on completely different wavelengths when it comes to seeing certain aspects of life, particularly on the topic of sex. I recently had such a conversation with a guy named Dick* (don't mind my witty nickname).

Dick is a 30 something year old professional business man in the entertainment industry. Dick has power, and Dick has money. Dick is also overweight, not too attractive, but extremely charismatic in a flirtatious and demanding sort of way. One of those people in high position and expects ass kissing. Needless to say, many girls flock to him in hopes of being introduced into the industry. He apparently lost count after fucking 150 girls.

Now, I'm not a math major but I do believe 150 is a pretty big number. I also collected some fun facts from Dick:

- Korean girls are nymphomaniacs.
- Japanese girls are submissive.
- You either hit or miss with Chinese girls.
- White girls are lazy.
- Fucking a porn star really isn't much different from fucking any other woman.

While discussing his intimate stories, Dick was simultaneously trying to coerce me into the act. Now I don't know why or how a man thinks he looks even remotely attractive by telling you he's fucked over 150 girls, especially to a virgin. He even revealed that he was not 100% "clean," but was currently "healthy."

Seriously?!

After some thinking, I had one question left to ask Dick: Do you feel restless and discontent about life? His answer was what I expected: Yes, very.

And then things come full circle. Those who are unhappy with themselves and with what they have continue to look endlessly. There's never enough money, power, or even women in the world. My guess for Dick is that he'll probably keep looking until his dick falls off.

Blockheads

What I don't understand are people who can't seem to get a clue. Let's just call them blockheads.



No matter how many little hints you drop, or even how direct you are with them, these people are incapable of taking your subtle or not so subtle suggestions to leave you the fuck alone.

Case A.
Fred* was a guy I had a booty call with once (on a blue moon, or perhaps it was a full moon) because hey, let's admit it, we all have urges every once in a while... however much you may regret it the next day and then go back to it the same night. Afterwards, I made it perfectly clear the two-time ordeal was purely spur of the moment and would never happen again. But no matter how directly I tell him to shut up and go away, the boy cannot seem to comprehend these words. In an almost desperate attempt, I question him directly: Why do you still bother me if I am so mean to you? He simply "LOL's" his way out of the question, and continues on to barrage me with links to random youtube videos that I will never click and ask me to go out and grab a bite with him. The answer has been and always will be NO.

Case B.
John* was an ex-boyfriend where things ended on a bad note. But every couple of months, he'll send me a message or phone call, trying to patch up at least a friendship and to check on my status. I ignored this for the first few months, but as I got over my grudge, I decided to start replying. Worst choice ever. No matter how short, blunt, or uncommitted my responses are to his questions of "What is it you want out of life?" "Where do you want to be in five years?" etc., he asks nevertheless and continues to spill out cliche wisdoms, such as: "You'll only get what you work for" (I know this already dumbshit).

In the end, is it because these boys crave what they cannot have? Is playing "hard to get," and not on purpose, driving these boys to pursue their endless ambition even further?

Someone give me a sledge hammer, I want to break some blocks open.