Go on and have sex on the first date in case you want it. If it feels fine, do it. Get over yourself. Get your taboos off. Surrender to irresponsibility, chemistry and alcohol. Dive into the passion, throw caution to the wind, make a large sloppy mess of your intimate life. Your guy might not call you back in case you rail him in the bathroom stall or after he goes out of your flat while you are asleep. If it happens, wail and cry! Just know that says about the fragility of the human heart are largely exaggerated.
If there were ‘dating rules’, we would all be able to follow them, like IKEA instructions (thanks God, they would be less irritating.) If there existed hard, set rules, we would get happy instantly and keep on moving.
There are no rules to romance, love, the quest to connect. Saturate your lust. Own your filthy behavior. Don’t apologize. There was a wise somebody who once said experience is never making the same mistake over and over again. Make mistakes! Repeat after me: ‘I am not ideal. The only things that are ideal in the universe are the moon, the snowflakes and cheeseburgers. I am not ideal, and neither is my intimate life.’
I have never made that certain mistake, but it isn’t because I have never tried. I have never made that mistake, and perhaps it would not be a mistake. I’ve come close to having sex on the first date. Absolutely close. I’m not necessarily having plans on doing it. It isn’t in my daily list or anything. I’d have to say that in case I were to have sex, that individual and I would either be completely drunk, completely unable to keep our hands off each other, or both. In case that were the case, and she never called me back, I would be bummed. But there is no doubt I would get over it. Or wouldn’t.
If there were ‘dating rules,’ we would all be able to follow them, like IKEA instructions (thanks God, they would be less irritating.) If there existed hard, set rules, we would get happy instantly and keep on moving. But nobody is guaranteed good health, great career, or an ideal relationship. Doesn’t that make the pursuit much more piquant, and the potential success that much more precious? If I did, I would fantasize she would be one of those girls country songs are sang about. The one that got away. The one that chases me. Every guy has at least two of these. Sometimes they go away because we do them wrong, and sometimes because they do us wrong.
I know about posts written by women about not having sex on the first date. Good for them trying to find out all of this humanness. Do I agree with them? Nope, I don’t. But where is the fun in a great, ol’ coed blog about the most necessary thing in the history of existence in case we all agree? I have fun of having daily relationship melee that goes on around these parts. We are finding this out together.
Thus have sex on the first day if it feels okay. Leave marriage, regret, and any worry about the potential for tactical disadvantage until tomorrow. Feel nasty that he never called back? Don’t do it again. Or find solace in a classic cinnabon, all 730 amazing calories. I am not aware of why men get indifferent, lose interest, fade away. It seems to me that persons are too anxious to settle for anything less than complete or even near-complete chemistry.
It is our mania to check off the mail that reads, ‘Search for a boyfriend/girlfriend,’ on our control freak to do list. In case the chemistry is there, everybody will keep interest. And that goes double for whenever you choose to knock boots. Isn’t predetermining when you must have sex, versus when it feels fine, dirty and right, equivalent to the game-playing that we all bewail?
