For the past year I have enjoyed new experiences, new men, new positions and a whole new chapter of my life. Having recently gained the self-confidence to approach a man, I took charge of my sexuality and decided it was time to let loose a little bit and have a good time.

And that was the best decision EVER.

Recently, though, I was set up on a date. Not really looking for anything serious at the moment, I only agreed to the whole event to appease my friend. But as soon as the boy came to pick me up I was glad that I did.

He was cute. He was smart. He was funny. And he was a total gentleman.

At the end of the evening I thanked him for dinner and awkwardly dodged his attempts at a kiss by slamming my apartment door in his face. Smooth, I know.

It was not like I didn’t want to kiss him – in fact, I wanted to do a lot more…in the shower – it was just that, well, I didn’t know how. I haven’t kissed someone I actually liked in a really long time. The last 10 guys I kissed, in fact, had names I could not recall and happened in a dark corner in a gross bar. The kiss almost always led to sex, which was always lots of fun, but was always purely physical, carnal, and fueled by too much alcohol.

In other words, the only “feelings” involved in the whole exchange were the feelings that were happening below the belt.

I knew I would never see the guys again, so I never really cared how things turned out. I didn’t think about what I looked like naked. It didn’t matter if they ever wanted to see me again. I just wanted to have a good time and be home in time for breakfast the next morning.

With each passing Walk of Shame, though, sex changed for me from an expression of feelings to nothing more than a physical act with a very happy ending (if I was lucky). And I never noticed – until now, that is, when I find myself faced with potential feelings and no clue how to act on them.

I don’t regret the past year of my life, but I do question if treating sex as a light hearted and fun activity has permanently desensitized me to the emotional aspect of it all. I am afraid that my life as a single, sexually uninhibited woman has made me incapable of anything more and that sex can never be anything besides a drunken quest for physical satisfaction.

I think I’m ruined.

Brian and I broke up under relatively ridiculous terms. We were in the midst of a long distance relationship. A passionate one.

We both got wasted one night and in a fight via text message. And that led to a fight via telephone. And that led to me texting him: “We’re Over“. And then we were.

Like some sort of f*cked up magic trick, I pulled the ‘We’re over!’ card out of my black hat and POOF…our relationship went silent. On the morning after, I woke up so hungover that I didn’t really recall what had happened the night before..until I read my text messages. And apparently, he woke up in the same scenario. But neither one of us made the effort to fix the damage we had done. I think it was because we both knew deep down that we were not right for each other, anyway.

It’s with pain that I confess that Brian is one of the dumbest people I have ever met…let alone dated. But, like most dumb guys, he did have redeeming qualities. He was sweet to me. He actually made me feel like a girl; he made me feel loved. He was outgoing and always down for any adventure. And we LOVVVVVVEEEEDDDD getting stoned and screwing. It was like our sex brought us together in the sickest, but most satisfying way imaginable. He’s so well endowed that I can’t help but wonder: did god just put some of his brain in his dick?

Over the last year…we have slowly rekindled our friendship, a friendship that has remained a friendship. I have never thought even once about ever being emotionally involved with Brian again. I know now that he is a complete mismatch for me. However, a couple weeks ago…he comes out with THIS in the middle of an AIM conversation:

“Well…I would have sex with you again. I mean, I’m not going to ask you or anything..but it would be awesome”.

He continues on to tell me about how I’m the best sex he’s ever had.

He starts to recount memories of particularly awesome sexual encounters with each other.

He starts to send me pictures of his…um….you know.

He points out the fact that he’ll be in town very soon…

And…I can’t lie. All of this has got me thinking. We DID have great sex. Maybe the greatest. I DO feel as though we could do this exsex thing without risking ourselves emotionally–for once.

I’ll be seeing him this weekend. I feel awkward about it already. Will I dress hot and play hard to get and get off on the fact that he’ll be looking at me all night and thinking about me sexually? Or will I have a couple drinks and remind him of what the best sex he’s ever had in his life feels like?

To tell you the truth…I’m not really sure. But there will be a part two to this that will follow our much anticipated encounter…