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“For me too, baby!” he agreed, though it wasn't immediately clear to me if it was just that he'd thought it had been perfect, or if he meant it had been something he'd always wanted, too. I'd have to remember to ask him about that later, sometime Mom wasn't around.

Maybe you and I do deserve to suffer for our wrongdoing. If that’s so, then it means that when things get painful, when things get difficult, we don’t have the luxury of quitting. We don’t get to end our lives to escape what we did. Whatever form the pain takes, we bear it, we endure it, we welcome it, all while we try to make this world a place where people like us, like how we used to be, have no place, and the people who would be hurt can instead live in peace. The next time you encounter an obstacle you cannot overcome, when you just want to curl up into a ball and quit on the world, remind yourself that you don’t deserve the peace of surrender. You have to keep working, to keep fighting, to keep suffering, until the day when you’ve fully repented.

After that, I assumed that we were not going to have sex anymore, and I went back to masturbating several times a day to cure my teenage horniness. What she did for me was amazing, exciting and very educational and I was grateful for that. I went out with other girls from school, but just making out wasn’t doing it for me anymore.