DISCLAIMER: The title of this blog is as descriptive as possible to give you fair warning to not read further if you don’t want/can’t handle the details. If you’d prefer not to read about losing a condom, please look at the top of your screen and find either the ‘x’ to the right or the back arrow to the left…then use it.
Before I can begin sharing the lost (read: untold) stories from 2012, I have to tell this one. The blog posts to follow this one (of other untold 2012 stories) will make most sense only if this story is told first. In fact, I think my posts last year were so non-existant because I didn’t want to tell this story. Luckily, I’ve gotten over that. So here goes.
It was late 2011, I was planning to spend an evening with HLF, and had every intention on that evening ending in sex. As planned, we ended up in bed together. About five minutes in (ha! did you catch that double entendre?) he pulled out and announced that the condom had slipped off. Hmmm, well where is it? The condom was nowhere to be found. It was lost…inside me. Sparing you the details of searching for the condom, you really just need to know that it was not found that evening. Of course this killed the mood. I wished HLF goodbye and he headed out. I went to bed frustrated and worried, but assuming that the condom would eventually tire of playing hide and seek and work its way out of my body.
Fast forward two days and the condom had yet to reveal itself. So, I did what what was natural – I googled my situation. Luckily, there are plenty of women who apparently have this issue, and I found a nice article from Cosmo Magazine telling me how to properly fish for lost condoms. Following Cosmo’s sage advice, I retrieved the lost condom, flushed it, and headed straight to my local drug store to retrieve my Plan B pill. As I paid for the pill, I commented on expensiveness to the pharmacist, a mother of 3. She looked at me and said “Trust me, it’s cheaper than actually having a child.” I agreed and went home to prevent the possibility of mothering HLF’s child.
Fifty bucks, one pill, and a glass of water later, I sent HLF a text message: It sure is expensive not having your babies. His reply: Hunh? I told him that I’d finally found the condom on day 3 (and thank God for that! You only have 72 hours to take Plan B and have it work). He expressed surprise that it took so long. I replied by telling him that I had no intention on having sex again anytime soon. He replied with respectful understanding.
Although HLF probably thought I meant no sex with him anytime soon, I eventually came to realize that I just meant no sex. Period. Losing that condom really made me consider the thought of whether there was a man whose child I’d be willing to have out of wedlock. And the answer to that is a simple no. I enjoy sex when it’s with the right person, but the title of “right person for sex” has not yet in my life also aligned with the title of “right person for life partnership”. The thought of potentially being pregnant with HLF’s child was quite terrifying for me. I always enjoy spending time with him. We have a great time hanging out and have never had any arguments in 15 years of knowing each other. I enjoy snuggling up to him, kissing him, and sex with him. Yet, I can’t imagine trying to build a life with him. I think part of the reason why we get along is because our relationship is casual and easygoing. I’m not sure we’d like each other as much if our relationship was complicated with a pregnancy or an official title. So, I took a step back from HLF and sex before entering 2012.