Thing I remember about our encounters and things you remember seem to be completely different things. Every time you talk about our first (only) time together, it sounds like something I wasn't there for. I wish I remembered all the wonderful things that you did like the feel and the sound and the bla bla bla that you love to remind me about.

We had sex.

...You're right. We did.

I jerked off the the thought of having sex with you the other day.

...Good to know.

You know what  I remember about our shining experience? The fact that when we were done and you were giving me the play-by-play of your performance, you refused to kiss me after. I'm not sure if my wonderful memory is serving me incorrectly at this moment, but I don't remember you kissing me before it happened either. It was pretty much a straightforward, well-we-might-as-well-hop-into-the-back-of-the-car-and-get-down-to-business, business transaction. I might as well have been the lady who does your taxes.

And don't think that I forgot about the fact that when I was still shy before I lost my virginity and refused to touch your strange looking penis (because, lets be real, I'm not supposed to look at it, it's just supposed to impale me... maybe with you KISSING ME before and after) and you conveniently refused to be anywhere near me for the rest of the week? Yeah, I remember that too.