CAUTION! MATURE CONTENT!
So I was having a talk with one of my friends yesterday, and I kinda-sorta lied. We were talking about what we wanted in a relationship (not our relationship, guys) and he said he didn't want sex, he just wanted someone to hold, and I agreed.
That's not exactly true. I'm sixteen years old, I'm a female, it's biology. I want sex (even if the idea of being that intimate with somebody terrifies me - I mean, I don't like the way I look with clothes on, and I can't imagine ever being that close to somebody). Not right now - God no. Not for at least four more years. But I do think about it. It is on my mind. That's normal.
What I meant, though, when I was talking to him, was that there's something else I want more than sex. More than anything, I want the morning after. I want the tangled sheets and the tangled hair. The yawning kiss and the holding hands under the covers. The 'go back to sleep, love' or the 'good morning, sleepyhead'. I want to wake up holding someone else.
So yeah, there's sex. But then there's trying to figure out the coffee-maker in someone else's apartment and the trading of socks ('That one's mine!' 'No, this one's yours!'). And that is what I want more than anything. To argue over socks with somebody after that sleepy-morning kiss.
Of course, this is not something you text somebody ('No, I do want sex! Wait!!!') so I'm putting it up here. Where there is no chance that he will ever see it. Because I'm passive-aggressive like that.
Still, it clears my conscience a bit from the not-quite lying.