But yeah, next year it was Tuesday, and the year after that it was Meryl. And Liz’s just someone I think about from time to time—like on a scale of years. You wonder where these people are—and you don’t really care—but that’s a whole person out there, doing things. Usually people become completely different.
I went to OU—this is in Athens Ohio—and I met another girl. This one’s name was Kate. And after that it was my roommate’s sister, Stacy (that was awkward). Then it was some girl named Meg, who was very forceful, and there were a bunch of other girls in there and there was even a guy (named Chad) and..actually there was even another guy, Mark, and oh, yes, there was this girl named Charisma, who was excellent and who I could never give up, even though we had nothing to talk about. I’m pretty sure Charisma was the best sex of my life.
But it’s hard to judge.
I mean, there are so many angles. There are so many facets. There are so many aspects of a relationship, even just the sexual part, it’s hard to say that Charisma was bar none the best sex of my life. But she was. In a pure-fucking sense. She was.
We would go to movies together and she would just suck my dick.
We would go to dinner—she would try the same thing. (We got kicked out of restaurants.)
When we got home we never made it to the bed. We fucked right on the floor. We made out in the seafood section of the grocery store—and I hate it when couples make out in grocery stores. Everything was sex to us. At one point we were working through all the public library branches in Dayton, having sex in every one. Public places was a thing of ours. It was pathological, but it was good, good fucking.
The next day, though, was always a pain. I had to hang out with her until about two in the afternoon, and she’d want to go on errands, buy things, random things like she needed to go get a tarot deck or a new crystal. We were always in these gypsy stores. I’d be sitting in the parking lot, in the car, thinking about just leaving, while she had her cards read. And she’d always be talking about other guys. That’s what she’d need the tarot reading for. We were just friends with benefits but still, I don’t want to hear about the guy you’re getting engaged to, while I’m buying you a crystal. I didn’t care about the money though; the worst part was waiting for her to get done with her errands, so I could take her home. By noon the next day I didn’t care if I ever fucked her again. I was done. I was even done with pussy altogether if it had to be like this. How can you be so good at fucking and have absolutely nothing in common with a person? When we fucked it was like god had re-invented sex. In the car with her, the next day, it was like god’s counterpart was doing some relationship experiments of his own.
Charisma’s one of the only people I’ve ever cheated with. Every time we had sex we were cheating on some engagement she was in, but that’s not what I’m talking about. When she and I first started, we were cheating on a relationship of mine. She was that persuasive. And I was that fucking horny. It’s hard to stay faithful when you’re twenty.
I was with this girl Ashley, who later became my friend. But while we were together, I cheated on Ashley with Charisma. Once. Well, twice. Two nights. And there was one other time I cheated on someone, with someone else. And that time is one of the things I regret the most. But even Ashley—I never should have cheated on her with Charisma. She deserved better.