I go to bed at night and memories of the day bubble up in my mind’s eye. Soon the good gives way and bleeds into the bad. Oh and there’s so much bad; A personal highlight reel of awkward. Not from just today. Oh no. Tonight we’re taking a stroll down nightmare lane. First stop: seven-year-old me telling my crush that I like her.
….What’s so funny? I wasn’t being funny….Oh. I probably shouldn’t have said that.
Fast forward to High School. Cue all of my awkward interactions with girls.
Oh shit. Eye contact. Did she see me checking her out?
Ah. On to my first relationship and arguments with her.
Was I really in the wrong on that one? No. Maybe. I don’t know.
WHY won’t this stop?
I toss and turn. The projector behind my eyelids is running hot and I can’t find the off switch. I’m an audience of one and the exits are blocked. I decide that sleeping is an exercise in futility; guess I’ll jerk off then. What’s new on Pornhub? A few minutes of furious tugging, I cum, and still nothing. Now I’m restless and feel filthy.
Filthy? Why? Time to tumble down the rabbit hole of analyzing the stigma of self pleasure.
What time is it? 2:40?
I toss and turn some more. My eyes hurt, I still feel filthy despite the lunacy of masturbation shaming, and I can still feel that one lone drip of cum still in my boxers. And then it ends. At some point I drift into a dreamless sleep. And then…
I wake up in the morning. And it begins again.
Prompt: I go to bed at Night. I saw this posted on my Facebook feed, and I thought: Well, when I go to bed, do I really sleep?