My Year (and a half) of Celibacy and Relevation

I didn't have sex in my early twenties. It was both valuable and very boring.

I became a born-again virgin two days after my twentieth birthday. Two days after that, I sat in the CVS parking lot inside my fifteen-year-old Honda sedan and swallowed two pills of Azithromycin with one big gulp of Diet Coke, before driving myself home and being escorted to a mental institution by three members of the Saratoga Springs Police Department. I suppose “born-again virgin” isn’t the right word. There was no moment of religious ecstasy or feeling that I was reclaiming something or becoming someone. There was, however, a nearly year-and-a-half long period of my life where I did…

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