In this week’s story, a woman visits an ex-boyfriend who promises to be more sexually adventurous: 27, single, Utah.
8 a.m. Wake up, get dressed, and drive to my friend’s farm to milk the goats. I live in rural Utah. When my job went remote during the pandemic, I moved here to have a more free-spirited, outdoorsy lifestyle. I work in environmental sciences, and I make my own hours.
11 a.m. Get home, make breakfast and coffee with some of the fresh goat milk.
12:30 p.m. Get dressed, drive to a trailhead, and go on a run in the foothills.
3 p.m. Home. I text my friends about the dinner party I’m hosting on my front porch this evening. I get a text from Ryan, my ex, who wants to meet up this week. I don’t respond immediately. Our relationship was great, but our sex was repetitive and boring. I expressed interest in trying new things, but he never agreed. We broke up two months ago but are still in touch and pretty friendly.
3:15 p.m. I do respond to texts from my other “boyfriends.” I have, right now, three friends with benefits. All of them know that I’m sleeping with other people and are remarkably chill about it. As of now, I can’t see myself living a monogamous lifestyle unless I meet someone I want to be with forever.
Anyway, all of these guys, whom I met on Hinge, are different: Chris is kinky and spiritual — he’ll go off on long tangents about the “fourth dimension.” The second guy, Jeff, is kind of hot and dumb — he loves to snowboard, skateboard, and works in construction. The third, Xavier, is a paramedic. I like sex with him the most, but Chris is the most open to experimenting.
3:30 p.m. I go to my garden and harvest all of the basil, then blend the basil leaves, garlic, oil, and pine nuts until it’s become the delicious pesto I’ll serve tonight.
5:50 p.m. Put on a cute outfit and answer the door. I invited only one boyfriend, Chris, and he’s here early with a bouquet of flowers. Adorbs! He comes into my kitchen and we make out a little bit before I hear other guests knocking. We all get bowls and plates on the tables along with some wine and other drinks.
6:45 p.m. We find out that a metal mariachi band is playing in town tonight. So silly and fun. Chris and I decide to go.
7:55 p.m. A few of us Uber downtown. The band is playing at a bar, so I start slugging margaritas because what else would you do at a Metalachi concert on a Wednesday night?
9 p.m. I am very drunk.
11 p.m. Heading out of the bar with Chris when I eat shit on the stairs. I think my ankle is sprained. Chris carries me into an Uber, and we both go back to my house.
11:30 p.m. Although I’m in pain, we lie down in bed and start to make out. We undress each other, then after some foreplay Chris turns me around and asks to put his dick in my butt. We had talked about having anal before, and I told him I wanted to try it. I guess now is as good a time as any?
10 a.m. I wake up hung-over as shit and consider all of the mayhem from last night. I’ve been obsessed with having anal for a while now, but it was, in fact, nothing exciting. I really tried to enjoy it, but ultimately I didn’t.
11 a.m. Chris hits the road, and I stay home. I eat an edible and watch Broad City.
5 p.m. Go to a friend’s place for dinner. They’re making beets, which I don’t usually like but that turn out to be quite delicious. I eat a ton of them. I don’t tell them the full details of last night, but they get the gist that I’m not feeling well physically.
8 p.m. Go home and get an early night of sleep.
8:30 a.m. Wake up and start packing for a short trip to Salt Lake City to see family. Then I do a few hours of work, mostly research and writing.
12 p.m. I hit the road. My ankle is feeling better — guess it was just bruised — but for some reason, my stomach hurts.
3 p.m. On the road listening to music, feeling good, when I get the urge to poop. Is this from the anal?! Ugh. Emergency pull over at a gas station.
3:30 p.m. My stomach is not right. From the gas station, I text my good friend Reagan, a medical researcher who knows a lot about GI issues and is also really sexually experienced. She doesn’t think my stomach is messed up from the anal, just that I might have eaten something off. We decide I’m good to keep driving.
5 p.m. Arrive at my cousin’s house and do some breathing exercises — I’m about to walk into a house full of screaming children under the age of 8.
6 p.m. My stomach is still swirling, but I actually don’t know my cousin that well, so I’m too embarrassed to get into it with him. He’s older than me and thinks of me as the baby of the family. He would probably be horrified if I gave him any details. Plus I can’t imagine talking to him about sex. Our family is pretty Catholic — I was never even given the “sex talk” because my mom didn’t even want me to know that sex was a thing. I think this repression is part of why I’m so sex positive now.
6:30 p.m. I’m feeling a little better, so I drink some red wine.
7 p.m. The kids are doing a talent show — we’re all laughing our butts off at their silly dance moves.
10 p.m. In bed, feeling much better. I drift off pretty quickly.
8 a.m. I wake up to the kids playing and running around the house. My stomach is feeling much better, and it occurs to me … it must have been the beets! I’m relieved.
8:10 a.m. Breakfast. Slow morning with the family.
12 p.m. Soccer outside with the kids. Chris sends me a video of him playing guitar and singing a song. It’s cute, but I’m not in the mood.
3 p.m. We go to an amusement park with the kids. I text my friends about the beet incident and get some pretty hilarious responses. Never eating them again!
6 p.m. Dinner with the family.
10 p.m. Sleep.
8 a.m. Wake up again to children playing and running around the house. I go through a few work emails and try to keep my head down and make headway on a few projects that will go into full effect in the New Year.
12 p.m. Soccer outside with the kids.
2 p.m. Do some packing. I’m leaving tomorrow and in the morning meeting my ex, Ryan, at a trailhead outside Salt Lake City.
6 p.m. Dinner with family.
8 p.m. Text Ryan to confirm our meetup. I’m looking forward to it — it’s the first time I’m seeing him since we broke up. It’s also a long drive from where we both live, so I booked an Airbnb for us. Yes, you know what that means.
8 a.m. Wake up, eat breakfast, and stretch my ankle, which is pretty much back to normal. I mentally prepare myself to see Ryan. I realize I still very much love him, but not enough to get back together — I’m having too much fun with my Hinge boyfriends.
10 a.m. We meet at the trailhead. It’s so nice to be in his presence outdoors. We used to go on the most fun adventures together. As we hike, he tells me that he’s had a hard time moving on. I definitely miss being with him, but I’m confident that we’re not meant to be. It’s just something I know in my heart.
11 a.m. Still on the trail. Ryan says he hasn’t had sex with anyone since me. He turns to me with a “Your turn” look on his face. I know it’s my turn to confess, but I just stare at him blankly. I’m not going to lie to him, but I’m also not going to tell him that I’ve been banging three different dudes. I say nothing for now.
11:30 a.m. Walking on a narrow trail. Ryan is walking in front of me. Out of literally nowhere, he says, “I’m ready to have anal sex with you.” I stop in my tracks. I’m in shock. I tell him, “I think I’m good, actually!” He’s confused. He knows I’ve always wanted to try it and that his lack of sexual exploration was part of why we broke up. I tell him that I’m past the urge and try to change the subject.
3 p.m. We go to an Airbnb that I rented for the night and have very vanilla sex.
6 p.m. Go out to dinner.
8 p.m. We get an early night of sleep.
9 a.m. Morning sex with Ryan. It’s nice — but again, he’s not my soul mate, sexually or otherwise.
11:30 a.m. Ryan hits the road so he can continue his travels and visit some siblings, and I head back home.
1 p.m. Driving back home alone, pondering my absolutely chaotic week.
6 p.m. Arrive home and greet my favorite neighbor, Buck. He’s sitting in his front yard feeding some ducks. He waves, “Heya! How was the trip?!” I tell him it was nice and head inside.
7 p.m. I make dinner (not beets).
10 p.m. I ponder life and get some damn sleep.