And because I’m a morbidly curious bitch, I go to the bathroom and see the washcloth flung in one corner. There’re a couple of spots on it. So that’s my V-Card. Gone. I thought I’d shout, “Good riddance,” when I finally got rid of it, but I feel none of that. Nor do I feel any different. The only thing I’m feeling is relief and gladness that I didn’t punch it with any of my previous one-night stands. I can see clearly that none of them would’ve been worth much. But then I don’t know what other man could possibly compete with Matt. He’s freaking perfect.
