I tried to fuck my way out of pain, but it was worse than fighting to get out of quicksand. I got deeper in suffering and despair the more I fucked around, so I quited sex. It wasn’t helping to cure my broken heart; in fact, the more I did it, the more I thought about her. That’s how I started some sort of “Path of Celibacy.” Then I traveled to San Pedro de Atacama and almost killed myself climbing down a hill, alone, in the middle of the desert. Back to Santiago, with my broken foot wrapped in a plaster cast, I had sex again. Being so close to die gave me a totally new perspective on life. Suddenly, my heart was broken no more. And, fuck it. Life’s too short to waste a chance and a fully functional cock.