Relationship Blogs |
 One upon a time, a very long time ago, I ditched school with my HS boyfriend and went home for the afternoon when my parents were at work. My BF and I had been dating for a hot minute. Getting naked together that afternoon seemed like a much better idea than showing up for Miss Moyers’ Senior English class.
I drove him up the hill where I lived on Carol Drive in my (always) filthy yellow VW Bug. Wilted pink camellia blossoms covered the sidewalk outside of the house.
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 What can I do when it’s been days, weeks, months (or even years and years) since my partner and I had any connection that qualifies as pleasurable intimacy?
It was awkward. At a level. They loved each other but being alone together (especially naked - ugh) wasn’t nearly as easy as it used to be.  I’d been attracted to women for more than a hot minute, but somehow even the college “near misses” never happened, and here I was a grown-up person who didn’t understand my sexuality completely
 I wished I could die. Usually, my two weeks at Rancho Ose summer camp were heaven, but that particular day in that particular summer, it was hell. I was raised with one sister, no brothers and a very modest father. Male sexual anatomy was something that’d never been a part of my life until that day at the river
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