Freshmen year in college came with a huge change in myself, I wanted so fiercely to differentiate the new me from the old girl back at home that I was willing to do anything.
I have no regrets for the decisions I made because they made me who I am today. I will say that my forays into promiscuity were not my proudest moments, but I can look back, laugh, and know that I learned something.
I recently looked back at my writing from that year and found a story influenced by my experience that first time. To help myself though, I looked at the situation from what might have been the boys perspective. He was a young man just as lost as I was in the world, searching for something to escape into, something that wasn’t him. This is his story.
I am a fuckup. Don’t worry. If I didn’t say it, someone else would. I am a failure. But it really doesn’t matter all that much. In the world I live in, I am a god. In our bubble, I am a king. But among the raucous youth of this world, among the peers that thrive in debauchery as mold does in moist, warm air, I am searching for something more. I’m not sure what more is, but I want it.