archives
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
December 2006
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
October 2007
September 2008
February 2009
March 2009
July 2009
Chapter XIII
Friday, June 22, 2007@9:58:00 pm

Irony. Sad irony. It's sadly ironic, I suppose, that it happened like that, with that girl. Sadly ironic that I feel this way after getting what I wanted. I've always wanted it. Even in kindergarten, I’m sure. I wanted it to happen when I was 15 before I was legal. It was the thrill of doing something wrong in different ways, and when that passed, I wanted it before I was 18. I thought it wouldn't happen before I was 19 but I was wrong.

It happened in the middle of the night, in the dark, on a bed, at the bottom of a vodka bottle, at the end of a laughing fit, which was a reaction to an unfunny joke. And as the only one sobering up after the experience, I was the butt of that joke. She doesn't even really remember it. They say that once you've had it you have this glow about you, and people always know. It's not true. I don't have some glow or aura about me. The glow comes from when you've experienced it with someone you're close to, someone you're in a relationship with.

I know it's not the same with girls as it is with guys so no I don't feel empty, no I don't feel hollow, no I don't feel robbed. It definitely wasn't as enjoyable as I thought it was going to be. Almost like the way Disney glorifies a kiss, only I would rather have had a hard-earned kiss from someone I wanted rather than what I got from someone I didn't care for. No, I don't feel any of the feelings I mentioned above. What I feel is a strange sense of regret. I’m not crying out for another chance, my regret isn't that drastic. I just feel that I should have been with someone I really cared for, if not a lover then at least a close friend. I understand that I now have made it before finishing my eighteenth year and I am grateful for that. I know that I always thought I would lose it to someone I barely knew and didn't really like, and it really didn't bother me but it's irritating to note how reality is so different from imagination.

Interestingly enough, now I crave for someone to be with more than ever, if only to experience what I did, but with someone I care for. How different will it be? Might I count that as my first time, as opposed to my experience a few nights ago?

C'est la fucking vie à l'université. Ha. A completely unintentional pun. Oh, the irony.
I'm going to bed. Alone.