Avalanche of Sexual Traumas

i'm not bragging, i'm repenting

Suddenly an avalanche of sexual traumas came crashing down on me, all at once.

Stories I never told a soul. Audrey, that girl from karaoke in Denver. Stefani, that ugly stupid brown asian girl over Christmas. And Kylie, that hot brown asian girl in the Spring, the one who was too dumb to understand the movie Catch Me if You Can. That powerlifter from Bellevue who lived in a house with her dogs and loved F1 racing. The one with the lisp.

I have had so many unfulfilling sexual experiences that they all sort of mesh together, I don’t even remember their names. Are these stories even worth remembering. Worth telling. Are they worth anyone’s time. 

That girl who was supposed to fly home that night, but she came over and made out with me instead. That obnoxious girl who taught me how to rollerblade, who I couldn’t fuck properly because I was too nervous, that Korean girl with the perfect moan who I only saw once whose name started with an E I think, that rich girl named Lin Jiao, who was a real genuine writer years before I ever tried— but I was too dense to see, that one girl, Kiyomi, straddling me on the couch at my house party on my 19th birthday, that fat girl— the catfish, i seduced over facebook messenger and then brought to my hotel room in Hawaii and then ditched so I could call my girlfriend to tell her i loved her instead.

I can’t believe it, all those sensitive kind girls from college whose hearts I stomped all over on my journey towards something like “confidence,” it’s so sexy and cool to be a “heartbreaker” in TV and movies but in real life it’s just so fucking sad, it follows me everywhere, it’s so lonely, it’s all I can write about, I wish I could stop hiding, I wish I could stop hurting people, I wish I could become interested in something else instead. 

That girl from New York who I thought I loved because she had a lot of twitter followers. That girl from Taiwan who I ghosted because she trauma dumped after we fucked and she was ESL so it wasn’t even poetic to hear. That girl from Reno who blocked me because I caused her to end her relationship and ruin her life. That girl who I broke up with because she was clinically depressed.

That girl who dated me for years because she was a college transfer who had no friends and there was nothing special about me she was just lonely and she told me this all the time and I didn’t believe her — I thought she was just trying to hurt me.

That girl who I brought into my apartment on halloween front of all my friends, which was great, but then in my room with her i was unable to get hard so I just fingered her and called it a night and pathetically followed up several days later over email. That girl who told my girlfriend about this whole affair and pretty much ruined my first relationship for good. That girl who took pictures of me on that rooftop in college who never heard from me again — but did see that I was using the photos we took on Tinder.

That girl who loves me more than life itself, who depends on me so deeply, who does not know any of this at all. I am in a deep, deep hole and I can’t stop digging. 

And that’s not even half of them.