Lone Little Wolf

I haven’t thought about you in years. I mean, really thought about you. Until the other day when I was packing this year’s birthday cards away and I found one you made me. It had the old school WordArt and ClipArt from Microsoft Office 2003, I think. I didn’t read your kind words like I did all those years ago, but I did reminisce for a moment. Remember the sleepovers? We would watch horror movies until 3am and then hear strange noises outside your house in the middle of nowhere. I would always sleep in between you and Justin in case they were real. I considered these nights a loophole for not being allowed to stay the night at his house just yet, but nothing ever happened, you knew that. We ate the chocolate croissants you took home from work every week for breakfast. I laughed at the huge stack in your freezer. I held onto you on the back of the quad bike. We hit a fence post on your property and you fell off. Oh how we laughed! You would sit on the sidelines and watch my

So your doctor asks you  those  questions. You know the ones.  How many sexual partners have you had? Have you had unprotected sex in the last six months?  And even, if you take certain medications,  do you orgasm frequently?   You smile nervously and think back to the weekend before last when you thought in a drunken haze giving that guy a blowjob in the master bedroom was a fair trade for a finger bang before throwing up in the en suite.  Um, does that count? Recently I fell victim to irregular periods on the pill for the first time (if you’ve changed your diet and lost weight, trust me don’t be scared). So after my doc cleared me of stress and chlamydia, I had no choice but to wait until my hormones balanced out. In the meantime, I tracked these pesky bi monthly bleeds on an app. A cute pussy cat (you can change the animal if you find a cat to be too ironic!) notifies you when your period is coming or when it’s late. I never paid much attention to the other features of the app