“What’s your number?” he asks while he unhooks my bra.
“You have my number. You texted me to come over” I reply, confused, pulling his shirt over his head.
He smiles and lets out a little chuckle as he reaches for my zipper, “Not that number…the number of guys you’ve been with”
Dear Sexual History,
I’m writing to tell you that its over. We need to break up. We’ve been together long enough and I can’t take it anymore.
It was fun at the beginning, when everything was new. I remember the first time we met, how exciting it was to feel all those new sensations. The moment it happened, the moment it changed, I felt vulnerable and invincible all at the same time. Its a feeling unique to that moment, one I’ve yet to feel again.
I remember getting to know you early on, practicing. I did my research, I looked you up. I wanted to try everything and figure out how it works. It was awkward at times but I liked learning.
Once I got to know what I liked, we started having fun. I got to know good people and made some great memories. You taught me to love my body the way others do. I was the happiest I’ve ever been.
One night, though, we didn’t have fun. I wasn’t planning on you showing up that night, but you did. I was drunk and clumsy but everything felt aggressive and rough. The whole time you were there, I was just wishing you would leave. You hurt me that night, so I tried to forget about you for a while.
When I couldn’t forget about you, I acted like everything was normal. I dove into you. We went everywhere and anywhere. It didn’t matter who was there, I just tuned everything out. I didn’t care what anyone thought about it, I just wanted to feel you.
Everything was good, until it wasn’t. People started asking about you, concerned. They wanted to know why we spent so much time together. They wanted to know why I needed you so much.
Then I met someone. He was everything you weren’t and everything I needed. He told me to choose between him and you. So I chose him, and I let you go.
It took me some time but I realized that I don’t need you. We’ve come a long way, but its time to say goodbye. You’re responsible for some of the best moments of my life and some of the worst. I can never forget what we’ve had together, but it’s time for me to stop caring about you.
I take his face in my hands and smile “One less than I’d like.”
He laughs and kisses me, “I like that answer.”