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Male • 23 years old • Philadelphia, PA

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We had both graduated college and somehow the relationship had turned into this unkillable zombie. We had a history: break-ups, make-ups, cheating, long distances and long distance phone calls, coast-to-coast roadtrips, and — quite possibly the nail in the coffin (pardon the pun) — an abortion two years prior. I stayed on because of my own guilt about the abortion — especially since she had been a proper Catholic girl prior to being hooked to the immature asswipe that I was in my late teens and early twenties. Mentally I had totally checked out — and I thought she had as well.

Illustration by Thomas Pitilli
We tried various things to renew it, to spice it up a bit — but sadly the elixirs, tonics, massagers, etc. that they sell at Spencer's Gifts are no match for deep-seated resentment and guilt.

It was Valentine's Day. We went out to dinner and went through all the motions — stupid pink and red gifts, stuffed teddy bears with roses... all that hokey crap that we just bought into. We ended up on the couch in her apartment, which was weird because she was definitely a bedroom-with-the-lights-off kind of girl. I remember that the Olympics were on TV, and I found myself more interested in the performance of Katarina Witt than I was in the warm and loving person lying on top of me. After a long period of bumping and grinding and groping — all of my moves executed with the intent of giving me a clear view of the TV — she slumped against me and started crying. She told me that she couldn't remember the last time I told her that she was pretty or when I had ever initiated the "I love you" conversation. I realized what an ass I had been and was being, and threw myself into finishing the job, as if this one copulative performance was going to be the cure-all for the relationship.

Worst. Sex. Ever. No timing, no connection, just raw rutting and avoidance of eye contact. A sad beginning of the end of a once-promising relationship. Looking back, I can't say that I was particularly interested in Fraulein Witt... but my fixation on her landing some sort of double jumpy turn-around thing proved to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Pun intended.

We're looking for stories about the first, best, worst, weirdest, and funniest times you had sex. Email with 300-800 words. (Don't worry, we won't print your name — but please do make sure to include your gender, where you were, and how old you were.) Submissions may be edited, especially if you go all Wonder Years on us. Thanks!
 

8 Comments

I can definitely relate. Sex is like the canary in the coal mine when it comes to the end of a relationship. And of course the more anxiety you feel about making it great the less chemistry there will be.

gar commented on 07/21

Yeah, I don't think you know what a pun is.

gm commented on 07/21

Oh, man, I've been there. Depressing, but at least I know I'm not the only one.

kk commented on 07/21

Left the TV on during sex??????? Blink 182 would be proud.

EM commented on 07/21

Is this really all Hooksexup has to offer? Where are the insightful, well-written personal essays? I could read this piece on Craigslist - maybe by someone who knows what a pun is! Hooksexup: please, please abandon the "reality TV" crap you've been running and bring back the smart and edgy content you've abandoned.

cnh commented on 07/21

CNH is absolutely right. This is not up to Hooksexup's usual standard of great writing and is a complete waste of electrons. Please replace with something worthy. Thanks.

BZ commented on 07/21

pleeeeaaaaase get rid of this column

ja commented on 07/21

Yeah, where are all the great personal essays? It's like they've disappeared. There used to be a menu item for personal essays-that also has disappeared. Hooksexup is only worth checking once a week or so, because there's so little new content every day, and FML is often better/funnier than the dating confessions.

jlo commented on 07/22
 

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