My First Time Having Sex

It's about that time to migrate back to our schools. The weather's getting cooler, Target checkout lines are becoming more space, and leaves are slowly descending to the surface. At this point last year, I was neurotic. The concept of moving out of my folks' house had my anxiety through the roof, and thinking about leaving my group of friends was heart-wrenching. I think we, as humans, have this concept of a "home" being immobile. We think of the house we were raised in, the community that nurtured us, and the people whom we grew up with as a collective "home."

Home has become a synonym for our comfort box, though. How many people as children dreamt of being a child forever?! Never having to leave k-12 school, never having to  move out of our parents' house, and never having to assimilate into the real world? Sounds nice, huh? EVERYBODY has an aspiration. Even the burntest of the burnt dream of burning elsewhere, right? College is really, to me, just an intermediate level towards achieving what I want from life. Reality is, after the four years of college, if you STILL (miraculously) miss home, and think that there's nothing else in life to achieve then to stay at home, YOU have that right. Go back home. But, nobody should really fret the opportunity to go out and make something of their lives. I think we all gotta leave home, if for nothing else, then to just prove that we don't really want to leave home. Don't be scared of diverging from your friend group... you'll stay in touch with the ones that matter.

Some nights, I go out my window and sit on top of the slant in my roof. I hear the wind blowing through trees, as I inhale the other tree. It's a peaceful setting, but it prompts deep thoughts that are sometimes hard to deal with. I think being at home makes me too nostalgic. I look back on the past relationships, friendships, and connections I've had in this city. I miss people. I believe everyone who has entered my life has, in some way, affected me just a little bit; They've redirected me to where I'm at now as an individual. I'm thankful for all of the drama that I've non-willingly been thrust in to. I show gratitude towards the false rumors that circulate around my name. I love the negative attention I've received in my past, because it's molded me. It's helped me segregate faux from real.

Yesterday at work, I was approached at the cafe. A sweet, elder lady named "Shauna" sat down next to me and ate a meal with me. Our conversation delved in between depths, as she began to tell me about her son with addiction. I sympathized with her. She told me that I was "Her Guy," saying how out of all the people that we work with at Target, I've always been the sweetest to her. She said she could tell my parents raised me well, and that I oughtta thank them everyday for what they've done to make me the gentleman I am. I hugged her. I wish Shauna didn't have a biased opinion of me. I wish I could have told her about the times I've talked back to my dad, about my experiences with drugs and alcohol, but I couldn't. I let her believe that I was some sort of perfect human; it was nice to hear. I am a good-hearted kid, but I wonder if Shauna would think the same if she knew my past.

My Mom and Dad worry about me. Ever since we lost my 23-year old cousin last year to drug addiction, they keep a close eye on me. They know I drink, they know I've smoked. They trust me, but they don't trust the company I keep. I wish I could settle their nerves, but I know that if I was a parent, I'd feel the same. I didn't start telling my mom "i love you" until last August, when I went to college. I don't say it enough. I've recently realized how precious life is, and it's helped me adopt the mentality of "quality over quantity" in regards to the people I let in, and let stay in my life. My family is the best blessing I've been given. I have a brother who has bailed me out of so much trouble, a sister who is too shy to tell me she loves me but sends me food when I'm away at college. I have a mom who would do anything for her children, and a dad who has provided me with all the financial help I've ever wished for.

I try to take time out of my day and think about who I want to be. I see myself as a leader. I've saved a life. I don't have an ego, but I have become increasingly confident in the prospect that I can shape the world. My faith is at an all-time high. I know the future isn't promised. I don't take shit for granted. I appreciate all the unconditional love I've received from people whom I may not have given reciprocity. I will be better. I'm SO excited about life.

I guess, this has nothing to do with my first time having sex. But I'd like to see how many of you read this just because you would hear about my dick going in vagina.... hmm. Regardless, make time in your day to thank those who deserve it. Recognize the vital components in your life, and alleviate yourself from the negative factors. Refrain from recluse, decide the outcome of your story.

-Jack