I'm nothing but a brash and impetuous girl striving to be true to myself while searching for somewhere to belong, someone to love, and a better version of me.

Jack was my first college boyfriend. “Jack” is short for “jack rabbit,” as sex with him was what I like to refer to as “jack rabbit sex.” If you’ve ever seen that Sex and the City episode, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. I almost died the first time I saw it (the jack rabbit sex starts around the 6:15 mark).

I guess it could be referred to as “jack hammer sex,” too, as it’s just a lot of frantic humping on his part while I lay there and pretend to enjoy it.

Okay, so the sex with Jack wasn’t great. But he was one hell of a good kisser. In fact, we met by kissing. My first night of college, I was wandering the halls of my dorm, drunk. I turned a corner, and there was the cutest thing ever. Totally my type (at the time): 5’6, 140 pounds. Dark hair. Boston accent. I said, “You’re hot. Can I make out with you?” And so, I did*. And that’s how we started dating.

It didn’t last very long, as we were new to college and neither one of us knew our drinking limits yet, and we didn’t handle ourselves well when intoxicated. The residents of our dorm floor witnessed a lot of embarrassingly intense fights. I even slapped him across the face on two separate occasions, which is something that I regret deeply. But Jack and I managed to stay friends. For the remainder of college, whenever we were both single, we’d fuck. He walked into my room once during a party and saved me from being raped (he didn’t know that was happening; he just happened to be looking for me. Thank god he was!). When my roommates threw a party that I had no part in, and then left when the cops showed up, leaving me (who was asleep in my bed) to take the rap, he sat with me and gave his name and ID, too.

He’s a good guy. And we have plans to have drinks next week, when I get back to the city. I wonder if his bedroom skills have improved any in the last 3 years? Maybe I’ll find out!

*I later told my mom that I met an adorable boy, and we were kind of dating. She asked his name. I told her. It turns out, that when she was helping me move in, she was standing behind him and his parents in line for the elevator and told him, “My daughter would love you!” Turns out, she was right!