Revelations At Forty Seven

A birthday blog

Yesterday I wrote an entire blog post about the first time I received fellatio. I was seventeen. I’m a late bloomer. Kids have threesomes before they can drive these days. Anyway, it happened one summer with a girl from Wisconsin who sounded like she was in that movie Fargo. It only lasted a minute due to my impatient friend banging on the door for us to get going. I remember it like yesterday. The cheap Korean summer blanket. That nondescript wall clock staring back at me like I was in detention. That rare ecstatic feeling when you know something is going to happen for sure. That feeling came from words. We had a conversation about it. It was like a deal that lead to one of the greatest feelings of my life. Not because she knew what she was doing. None of us do at that age. But because it was a brand new experience. Something that was only on replay in my head up until then. A boot print in fresh powder snow. So oral sex was my first brush stroke at 4:45am yesterday morning.

I write like I do my therapy sessions. Blank canvas. Meet you where you’re at (in this case, me). And just flow with it. So I did. But then ended up deleting it. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. I did have a point though.

Revelation 1.

As we grow up, we give ourselves fewer and fewer new experiences.