How To Create Monsters and Tame Good Intentions

A couple of years ago, I created a desktop folder titled "The Hunt".
In it, is a name, picture, and number of all my victims since I've started.
A whole archive of every female I've ever had sex with.

When I'm doing nothing, I go back and look at those stills.
Sometimes I feel good about all I've done
Other times, I dont.

What does it mean to me?

It means that I lose a lot. It means that I win just as much.
Yet, I still lose more, because the majority of these people in those photos aren't even remotely in my life anymore.
Whether it was through my own fault, theirs, a mutual agreement, or just that subtle drift in the opposite direction of our lives, the only good that comes from revisiting those moments is the moment itself:

We might've fought a lot, been from two different worlds, or perfect in that time, but it didn't matter. In that one moment (or multiple, depends on the person),

I had you.

We lined up. Perfectly. Aligned to do one thing and one thing only; make each other feel good because we deserved it.
To feel great.
To close our eyes and let that explosive thought of "yes" envelope our whole being.
We earned it for no one else, only each other.

I get a high knowing this
However, 

__________________________


I ended up in this predicament of hunting bodies by adult naivety and schoolboy curiosity.

9th grade, that young...two of my friends were new recipients of the "Experienced" club, although they only had sex with one female themselves.
They used to tell us so many stories about sex...us, The Young.
Couple of their tales weaved in with the sexual fables and escapades of the upper class-men; I stood no chance but to become enticed by this "sensation".

Words couldn't do it justice. You couldn't learn it in a book. It was the perfect realm.
Just her and you, mentally and physically blending.
Even this little elementary description flitted into my ears and sparked a desire I was determined to satisfy.
I was hooked on this thrill without ever even knowing what to do really.

Those guys at my school beat up on me so much about it.
They found it even more amusing that I had never even kissed a girl at that point.
In my mind, I felt like I was doing something wrong. I never spoke about it with anyone because I had no male figure to turn to..
and I damn sure wasn't talking about kissing girls with my aunt or mum. 

I wanted what the star quarterback in high school had.
I craved what the top point guard told stories about during lunch.
So I made it a priority to lose my virginity by the end of my freshmen year...

I kissed my first girl the Summer of 9th grade, but no sex.

10th grade came and so did my ambition.
10th grade passed and so did my disappointment (in due time).

November 10th 2009 finally happened.
That is the day I fell from grace.

From that day on, it was done sometimes for love,
but mostly lust.

It even turned into a game once. Me versus all my friends.
I never abandoned my standards to get ahead, but I'm pretty sure I did hurt some girls along the way.

Some understood, and even let me use their body for the adventure.
But even till this day, I can't tell if they were really using my body for their own agenda.

I went to this dark place, trying to hold onto my heart at times.
I would be home, wondering why I wasn't having sex at the time and just feel sly tingles move my body to find someone,
and use her.

I ruined a great relationship hunting in the jungle.
I watched a girl, who liked me, cry in front of me because I had sex with her roommate.
I've had my nights where it was nothing and everyone involved knew.

My heart doesn't beat the way it used to.
My lips don't kiss the way they used to.
Since
I created monsters
as one created me. 

Currently, Im better at holding my urges in check.
And I think that's because of the folder.
I look at those faces and feel pride, but shame too.
I think of where they are now and most of them I can't even find,
the ones who I can find appear to be doing awesome.
But why do I even look at all?

Tonight, I feel alone. I don't know why.
For reasons unknown, I can't delete that damn folder.

"Loneliness Stefan, that’s why you and I memorialize our dead. There’s the briefest of moments where we hold their life in our hands and then we rip it away and we’re left with nothing. So gathering other peoples letters or writing their names on a wall is a reminder that we are left infinitely and utterly alone."
-Klaus

Later Days