Lisa shakes her head. "You don’t get it," she says. "You’re not supposed to think about it. You’re not even supposed to ask me that. Sex isn’t nearly that complicated. You just … do it."
It sounds a lot more complicated than that. Sex is vulnerable. Sex is naked. Sex is showing everything of myself t
o someone, whether I like it or not. At least, that's what I can deduce from seeing my friends do it. I can't do that. I don't love myself enough to be that comfortable with strangers.
I don't think Thomas would ever have that kind of problem.
"It’s really not that big a deal," Lisa says. "Once you do it, it’s easy to do it again. And once you get into your own rhythm, you don’t care about whom you’re doing it with. You’re doing it for you."
I frown. That doesn't make sense to me. It seems selfish. Selfish and out there and hard.
"I still think it should be built on love," I say. "I know you don’t agree."
I finally finish my first drink and push the glass in the bartender’s direction.
"Another one?" he asks.
I shake my head. I'm not here to get wasted.
"What are you going to do when he calls?" Lisa asks.
"I don’t know. Go out on a date, I guess, if that’s what he offers."
"And if he offers sex, not love?"
I raise my eyebrows at her.
"Okay, okay," she says. "I know. You believe in waiting for love. I think it’s silly. I don’t understand it, but I hear what you’re saying. I won’t keep making fun of you."
"I don’t want to get serious about someone only to have them leave and take that part that I gave them away with them. You know?"
Lisa nods. "I hear you on that one," she says. "It’s bad enough for him to take your heart, never mind your virginity. If he has both, though, and then he leaves? That’s going to be rough."
I nod and stare at the dark mint leaves at the bottom of my glass. That's true. There's always a chance of failure. If it doesn't work out, then my attempts to guard my heart will turn around and bite me in the ass.
I can't do that, though. I have to stay positive and believe that the choices I make are the right ones for me.
I watch Lisa drinking. She's a mess. She’s lost a lot of weight, and even though she's beautiful without makeup, her cheeks are sunken, and her smile doesn't always reach her eyes.
This is life, though. We love and we lose, right? She'll get over it. And if it turns out that I make a wrong decision, I'll be faced with the same thing.
By the time we finish at Solas, Lisa's plastered. She can't string two sentences together, and she keeps saying that we should charge the bill to Graham because it's his fault that she drank so much. I help her get home. She throws up in the taxi on the way to her apartment, and we have to walk the last couple of blocks.
"I need to apologize to the driver," she says, her arm over my shoulder. My hand is wrapped around her waist. The other holds her wrist on my shoulder.
"You already did that," I say.
"I’m sorry," she says to me, instead.
"Don’t be," I say. "You missed my shoes so I’m grateful about that."
We finally reach her building, and I help her up three flights of stairs.
"Do yourself a favor," Lisa says when I tuck her into bed. "Don’t fall in love. Just sleep with them. It’s so much better."
She closes her eyes, and I tuck the blankets under her chin. I leave her apartment and make my way home.
Is Lisa right? Is it really that simple? Maybe I have to lose my virginity and get it over with. Maybe I have to get rid of the one thing that I've been clinging onto and just do it.