emotionally, at least (and now you know that this post is going to be loaded) the worst sex i ever had was on a basement floor (carpeted, at least). i believe it was a weekday evening, and i believe i had lied to my parents about where i was (my already-then-ex-boyfriend's house), and i believe i had gone there for the sole purpose of hooking up (which we started to do about a week after we broke up).

what i am certain about, however, are the words he said, as i fixed my hair and clothes and sat on his couch: "you know that i'm in love with xxxxxx, right?"

tonight though; tonight was pretty fucking harrowing. i think that's all i want to say for now.