Photo by Joshua Rawson-Harris on Unsplash

The first boy that I allowed inside of me had no idea what he was doing. I wish I could at least say we had been in love and that it was special, but in reality I was fourteen and uncertain.

I had dreamed of love, but what I got was awkward sex in his mother’s basement.

We were much too young. It was clumsy, rushed, and unprotected, leaving me wondering if the whole experience truly counted.

Where is the line for virginity, or is it just a myth after all?

He was a sweet boy headed nowhere. Misfit with…

Diane Twineheart

Evoking spirit, inspiring emotions, and shifting perspectives on life, identity, and love.

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