I had s*x.
I did it. That particular first in my life was done, and I was happy about who it was with. Under the seven layers of my emotional s**t, there were real feelings for Ryan. I mean, I knew myself. I wasn’t so damaged by WWD (what Willow did) that I was completely screwed up and would lose my virginity to some asshole.
Ryan was the right guy. I didn’t know what was in the future—I could barely function with the today—but there it was.
Done.
I was no longer a virgin, and I was supposed to be different. Right?
I was supposed to look different?
No?
Gazing at myself in the mirror after showering, and knowing Ryan was waiting in bed for some post-coital cuddles, I searched those two eyes where a soul is supposed to be.
I saw nothing. For real.
There was the usual iris, eyeball,
