23

At 23 years old, I feel like the oldest living virgin.

Oh, I'm aware that older ones technically exist, but I'm laying odds that they wear habits on days not Halloween and don't go around coveting $1000 handbags.

At this point in time, virginity is just not something you lose on a whim on the third (or even fourth or fifth) date with that "cute" guy or in a one-night-stand with the guitarist of a band. (Or at least, it doesn't seem like it should be...then again, the opportunity has yet to arise for said guitarist. Hint hint, hot guitarist. Actually, screw that. -- Er, not that, but the idea of a hot guitarist, I mean. At 23, I'm holding out for a hot lead singer. Yeah. Like that Incubus guy. He's pretty hot.)

It's such an awkward predicament.

I find myself asking many questions:
Am I asexual?
Maybe I'm bisexual? I do find females sexually attractive. But that doesn't necessarily mean I would be a virgin still.
Perhaps I'm just an overanalyzer, and these brain waves have formed a seemingly permanent interference with, shall we say, lustful matters?

It's all so confusing. I guess what I'm trying to say is this blog is for me to pour out my (thankfully anonymous) feelings (or lack thereof) on the subject of virginity and my confusion over the subject at hand (and trust me, the subject is definitely at, on, and about hand).

More to come.