I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

It’s strange. I’m doing things that I’ve never done before, and deep down, I was convinced it would make me nervous and apprehensive, but it hasn’t. In fact, I’m more comfortable with my sexuality than ever before. I’m still being judged by my past: shy & unspoken in matters of experience. Now, it doesn’t matter. I think I may be realizing what a rarity it is to find a person who you can feel so comfortable being with and being around. A person that you can tell the world is your love, and let them laugh for whatever pathetic reason. For you know they are wrong; completely wrong. I don’t worry about building a strong foundation or being secure, I insist only that she be happy with me until I have wronged. I am still just tryong to get over my luck and being able to convince myself that I deserve this – whatever beautiful thing it is. Been said before – I’ll say it again. Life is Grand.

What a cute and sweet entry. Sounds to me like I’ve had sex for the first time. Nice one! Bummer I didn’t go into more detail. I honestly can’t remember it. You’d think I would, it having been my first time and everything, but I can’t recall even a little bit of it. I remember parts of other times we had sex, but not the first time. I wish I had something written down about it. It might help spark my memory.