
It’s been literal years since I’ve posted here, and I’ve spent time being alone, not alone, and in a one-sided love that is all too familiar. The list of exes is now much longer than four or five, depending on how you define “ex.”
Today, I’m thinking about the people I’ve missed out on in the past few years. It’s not regret, exactly. More like curiosity.
Virginity seemed like a really important concept for all of my teenage years and even a few years into adulthood. I grew up in church, learning that you don’t have sex until you’re married because that’s how God wants it. I never questioned it. It seemed to me that the people I knew who were having sex had made life really complicated for themselves.
I’ve often asked myself why it seems I can’t manage to be single for any real length of time. Since Joe and I became boyfriend-girlfriend when I was 14, it’s really only been a matter of months of singledom for me in between long monogamous relationships.










