My apology

– Do you want to have sex with me? -I said.
– Really? – he asked, surprised.
– Yes.
– Just like that?
– Sure. Works every time -I replied.


I was telling an ex schoolmate my ultimate technique to get with a girl. Being as direct as it gets, which, shit you not, works like a charm. If you don’t believe me, ask him. A few days after, he came back and told me that he had followed my advice and it did the trick for him. Since that day he calls me “Captain.”

Captain. Sounded good. It was a nickname I never thought I would get, especially not for my womanizer skills. Yeah, me, a ladies man. Unbelievable! Me, a guy who lost his fucking virginity at 21 and stayed with his first and only girl for over 8 years just because he firmly believed he sucked at getting laid and, basically, everything related to the opposite sex… or sex, period.

What changed? Well, I was miserable and the sex with my ex, if I got any, was extremely boring and frustrating. Breaking up was a good start, I guess. Coming back to the “meat market” also helped. Experiencing things I should have experienced during my 20’s in only 4 months, before turning 30, was an excellent boost, too. But I wasn’t quite there yet. I wouldn’t think of that version of myself as the ultimate Casanova, nor I would expect to be called Captain for that. What changed then? More than what, it was a who. She changed me.

I loved her. And, along with her, I loved the man I became while being with her. Because even though, before she appeared in my life, I had already realized I was way more attractive and interesting than I used to believe, I was still ashamed of my performance under the sheets. She changed that. Oh, God, the sex! Un-fucking-believable. If there’s something she left in me, besides a broken heart after dumping me, was the sex.

I had nothing to brag about before. Then, all of a sudden, I found myself in a spiral of sweat, warmth, nudity and pleasure, seasoned with some awkwardness and emptiness every now and then. I felt like I had a power, a gift. Thanks to this new found arousing knowledge and the improved sexual performance that came with it, I rebuilt myself as the character I always wanted to be, but never had the guts to. Yes, I had changed, but to be this new person I had to leave behind fundamental values. I cheated, I lied, I fucked up and around and, when I had the chance to stop, I kept doing it for one last time, because it wasn’t enough yet.

With her, my beloved, out of the picture, I was devastated. But soon the devastation gave way to a fruitful sex drive. The more I got laid, the better I got at it. My self-confidence reached the skies and I was feeling like I was touching the stars with my dick. I got cocky and stupid. Met a very nice Danish girl and, despite I knew she was interested in me, I just kept her as my fuck buddy while I tried with some other girls. Breaking a foot didn’t stop me. Internet became my allied to keep shagging other girls while I was with her. One of them, a British girl, was the more important. So important that almost made me forget the Norwegian who’d broken my heart. Almost.

The British girl was on her way back to me, after being traveling around. I knew things could get deeper than occasional sex, and I felt ready to give myself to this new relationship. I cheated on my previous girl before to be with her, and now this foul was going to be worth it. Yet I had a hunch, a distracting feeling that wouldn’t allow me to fully focus on what I was starting to feel for her. To shake this thoughts off my head, I contacted my Norwegian ex. “What if there’s still a chance?” I thought. Miraculously, there was. But there was also lots of resentment on my side; so much that, although I loved her, I let the British girl come to live with me anyway. It was a fun month, contaminated by mixed feelings of joy and self-loathing, and that ended with me telling the truth on the last days and breaking the Brit’s heart.

Now that everything is over, I’m back with her. She, my first and only love. She, the one who showed me there’s more to life than the depressing sexual and affective ways I’d suffered before with my ex. But I can’t be with her at peace knowing what I did. I can’t enjoy her as much as I’d like, not without offering her my apology.

I am very sorry for being a jackass to you and to your gender, in general.

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