1:30 p.m. Make plans to spend day with the One Who Cries. I wish I could fall for him.
6:30 p.m. Am annoyed that he kept trying to hold my hand in public.
8 p.m. He keeps pestering me for sex. I finally oblige. It’s average at best. I think of B the whole time.
Midnight Fall asleep wishing I had my bed to myself. The One Who Cries keeps trying to cuddle. I want to punch him.
Why write a Sex Diary?
A co-worker and I read the Diaries every week. After a few slow weeks, we thought, “We have more entertaining lives than this, so let’s write Diaries.” She chickened out.
Anything you’d like to say in response to comments?
One person made a comment about how it was funny I was sleeping with someone who lives in the Bronx, unless I’m black or Hispanic. I don’t understand why a white girl seeing someone in the Bronx is funny!