I fucking hate it when you’re in such a fantastically giddy mood and then you see one simple little thing that makes you think, “oh” and then you just get this empty feeling in your chest and you get nauseous and the world just crumbles and you want to just lay under a blanket and close your eyes and fall asleep and never wake up.
One: Buy condoms. Buy them and keep them with you at all times, and use them before you are asked to use them. And use them every time. The peace of mind you allow your partner will free her to be vulnerable with you, and that, my son, is exactly what sex is about. Condoms are sexy. In fact, call buying condoms foreplay.
(Footnote: If you are too embarrassed to buy condoms, you are not ready to have sex.)
Two: Kissing is not merely foreplay. Spend entire evenings making out on the couch while fully clothed. Believe me, dry-humping rocks.
Three: Sex is not just about friction. It’s about emotion. Stop trying to find her clitoris and find her heart. Because then she’ll help you find her clitoris.
Four: If you really wanna know how to please a woman, ask her how she masturbates. Then do that. A lot. If she claims she doesn’t masturbate, offer to take her shopping for a vibrator so you can both learn the vocabulary of her body together.
Five: Don’t put anything in her butthole you wouldn’t want in your own.
(Footnote: Try a pinky finger, it’s kinda awesome.)
Six: When you go down on her—and you will go down on her, and if you are my son, you will be amazing at it—tell her how good she tastes. Stop in the middle and kiss her deeply so she knows how good she tastes. Do the same when she goes down on you.
Seven: A simple Google search will yield 1,327 euphemisms for male masturbation, yet only 23 for female masturbation. If guys spent less time jacking off and more time jilling off, this world would be a happier place.
Eight: Everything you need to know about the importance of the clitoris is in the movie Star Wars. You are Luke Skywalker piloting your penis-shaped X-Wing Fighter deep inside her trench. Remember: seventy percent of all Death Stars cannot be blown up through penetration of the trench alone. It must be through focused contact with that little exhaust port at the top of the trench. Otherwise, any explosions you experience will be merely Hollywood special effects.
Nine: Just because you come doesn’t mean she has, so don’t you dare come before her. Focus completely on your partner. Don’t worry about gettin’ yours, you’re a guy. You always get yours. Your job is to make sure she’s gettin’ hers.
Ten: If sex with your partner lasts no longer than this poem, you are not making love. You are masturbating with her body instead of your hand. Shame on you. Go back to step one. You’ve got a lot of learning to do.
After you left,
I stopped watering the flowers
on my front lawn, and as I watched
each one fold into itself
I started wondering if I was doing the same.
Because if you aren’t living,
then you have to be dying instead,
or at least that’s what my mother screamed
when she told me stop listening to sad music
and reading books that clawed
away at my insides.
When things started getting really bad
with the first boy I ever pretended
he started saying things like,
‘You don’t smell as good as she did’
and ‘I only kissed you so you could finally
stop talking about poetry and what the
New York City rain tastes like.’
I realized I didn’t really love him
when he told me to leave,
and I did.
The first time I told you I
was falling in love with your hands
and the way they knew how to hold me,
you whispered to me about the last
girl that lived in your bed,
and how her mother still calls
you sometimes and invites
you over for dinner.
There were nights when
you didn’t come home until three in the morning,
and I wondered if
you were busy eating from plates
that weren’t mine
and touching skin that didn’t belong
to my bones.
I almost asked,
but the way you looked through me
in the mornings told me
that I didn’t want the answer.
Months after that,
she left a voicemail
telling you how much she
loved the necklace you bought her
and how she liked the way
you looked in the soft glow of dawn.
I almost broke the house in half
with the thunder in my sobs.
You came home to find me
in the corner of the bedroom
scratching at the walls
and howling to a moon that didn’t
bother showing up.
I don’t remember leaving,
I just know one day I woke up
and nobody was there to ignore me anymore.
I’m still trying to decide if that was
worse than being ignored in the first place.
And I’d send this to you,
but you probably wouldn’t see it sitting
on your doorstep.
You’d probably step right over it,
and then wonder why you haven’t heard
- waiter: be careful, that plate is hot
- me: i am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, of the Blood of Old Valerya, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo’s riders, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. I am blood of the dragon. Fire cannot kill a dragon
- me : ah shit that's hot
That wasn’t fair of me.
Because in the end,
it was my fault for turning raindrops into the ocean.
It was my fault for believing I needed someone else’s
help to keep my head above water."