Names have been altered for privacy reasons.

Rob once asked me why I have the notch count I have and in my direct way of thinking I said because I never gave up.

He stopped me for a second, as the older brother he is, and said:

“It’s because of the memories.”

I didn’t know what he meant until he explained.

“Jack, you went out there. You met new people and you faced rejection because you don’t want to lay on your deathbed and think: “if only”. You want to lie there and think back on what you did.

It hit me and I finally realized how right he was.

Even though I wouldn’t spend time with most of my exes, plates and notches wether by their choice or mine, I do like looking back every now and then and smile. Even if it’s just a little.

The places we went to. The awkwardness we both experiences. The excitement of that attraction building up to a point where we nearly devoured each other.

None of it would have happened if I didn’t went for it and wanted something to look back on when I finally bite the dust. Whenever that may be. 

In times of dry spells I might start overthinking things and tell myself I will never get laid again, am not tall, jacked, rich, good looking enough, but then I have my memories.

The stories of the times a girl would text me if I was home during her lunch break.

A girl standing outside of my window at 3 A.M. in the morning checking if I was up (I was a “nightowl” as a teenager).

The matches I had at 11 P.M. at night telling me they’d “love a fitness class from me” (I had my profession in my bio). 

The dates I had where I walked in and could see everything but her nipples because of the low cut top she was wearing.

Adler who threw me into the red pill direction, L who let me swallow the pill, Carmen who was my first Tinder lay, Caroline the former main plate who would crawl through glass to keep me happy, build ships with me and arrange threesomes. Or the ginger I fishhooked.

All of these and more are an experience and reminder that I did it at least once and can probably do it again.

But even if I am never able to pull again (which at 31 is very unlikely but for sake of argument) I have the memories and at least went out there and went for it.

The average guy is either a virgin, doesn’t know what he’s doing, settled for less or is stuck in a sexless marriage.

They will die wished they had done.

I die knowing I have.

Quick thanks to Rob for letting me guest post on his blog.