after the age of 9, i find more and more girls sexually attractive. i eventually get caught in a bad position with a friend on her floor. we play it off, excuse the act as cleaning and bad eyesight. it wasn't what it looked like.

i play it careful. i stop engaging in sexual acts, but i think of them instead. i imagine heatedly kissing my friends on bathroom floors - like a repeat of something i recalled from years ago - but i don't act on my feeling.

in seventh grade i meet a girl and instantly decide she's mine. i get extremely possessive after a while of being her friend.

years into our friendship she comes to my house and i fight the urge to pin her down and kiss her hard on my messy bed. instead i play the piano and she sings for me. instead she asks me to listen to an artist i hate, but i do it anyway. instead we chalk up my driveway and take pictures in a field.

a year later, we kiss for the first time and i don't fight my urge. she lies on my floor, taking cute photos of my finger hooked on one of her belt loops. she takes pictures of the gold bracelet she bought for my wrist and how it clashed with her skin as i pushed up her shirt.

i pin her hips down and i grind against her and she pushes my hand away. a distinct memory pushes its way forward as she tells me to stop.

i pull away. i feel bad and i also feel annoyed. i retreat to my bed, mumbling apologies. she didn't seem fased, but i began to feel like a monster.

while she lied on my floor, i thought over my actions and i compared myself. i compared myself to people who stole touches with cold, ill hands and taught kisses with cold, dry tongues.

i felt disgust.