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.

I’m sitting here, still trying to deliberate with myself whether or not sex last night was right or wrong. I feel I did it purely out of want & not through love & though she accepted, what were here expectations in the situation. I did as I thought without thinking too much, except for now & now I’m pissed off for thinking about this so much. It happened, and at the time it was good. Enjoy what you have. For that matter, enjoy what you had. Things can always be fixed in the future.

I know exactly what I’m talking about, and I remember it vividly. I’m writing this the day after Halloween, and the night before my girlfriend and I had sex for the last time, and we’re basically broken up at this point. We both knew it was over, and we both knew this was the last time we’d have sex. It was very mechanical, but a little bit rough – like we were each exacting some kind of vengeance on each other. Now that I think about it, I can vividly remember the last time I’ve had sex with all my girlfriends, but not the first. Anyway, things are about to get more interesting in my life.

Side note, now that I know what date this comes from, I’ve realized that I’m too far ahead of schedule, so I’m going to slow these entries to three a week until it all balances out.