This post is going to be about sex.
Phew, I said it. If I can say that so bluntly, then this next statement shouldn’t be too difficult, right?
I’m a virgin.
You know, for a few more hours, anyway.
Wow, okay, turns out that was difficult to write. Like, really difficult. Like, as I type these words, I’m considering dumping this post completely because who on earth would want to read this unless they plan to mock me mercilessly about it?
But no, I’m not going to delete this, I’m going to write it—not because I think you need to read it, but because I need to say it.
I could give you a really in-depth look at all off the reasons why I’ve decided to wait until marriage and all of the reasons why Mr. Potion has made the same decision, but there is literally no way to write such a post without it sounding preachy or judgmental, no matter how hard I try to avoid such overtones. (Trust me, I just wrote it three times.) I’ll share part of it, however, and try my best to avoid the preachy-ness:
When you love someone, you want to give him things—you want to cook his favorite dinner and surprise him with a copy of that video game he’s been looking forward to and take him to your favorite museum. You know that you really love someone when you want to give him everything, and you don’t expect anything in return.
Having sex with someone is giving him everything.