Eight Reasons to Have Sex
by Heidi Fisher
1. You are 15, but you feel like you are grown. He’s 17, and though he’s a virgin as well, you are sure he’s done this a hundred times. You want him to like you so much.
2. It’s the day of your high school graduation, and your dress is white and flowy. As your mom’s nimble fingers dance over your hair, twisting baby’s breath into tangles of blonde curls, you avoid her glistening eyes in the mirror. Now, as he fingers a free tress, you appreciate her handy work. His hands gently circling your waist, you whisper, “Shhh,” and place a finger on his lips. Your parents are in the next room.
3. Your nose is numb, your throat is bitter, your heart is racing. You feel nothing and everything all at once. He’s just across the kitchen island from you, cutting another line on the marble countertop. His suit is crisp and this is his Rittenhouse row home. You think he wants you.
4. You’ve ordered another drink and the sharp lines of the world blurr and your thoughts muddle and you stumble, but just a bit. He’s paying. You don’t want to, not really, but you just can’t think of a reason to say no and there’s his hand already creeping up your thigh and you remind yourself: It’s not a big deal.
5. “It’s exciting. You’re exciting,” you whisper. Your eyes are on her. Her eyes are on him. You wish things were different.
6. His face is buried in your neck, mummering: “I love you.” You believe him, breathing in his familiarity, wanting him, unable to wait a moment longer.
7. He’s behind you, and the sound of his moans makes your jaw clench. He came home late, again, and you tended the toddler all day, again. Swallowing memories, silencing frustration, you lean back into him, making the sounds he wants to hear, urging him to finish so you can continue being mad. You are ovulating.
8. “But do you want to?” You know he is asking for himself, not for you. You promise him you do, though your heavy eyelids betray you. In a single day there have been a lifetime of touches, and you yearn for space and quiet and sleep. But you roll over and offer your body because the angry silence the next day isn’t worth it.
Heidi Ruth Fisher is an educator at Thomas Jefferson School, a small boarding school located in St. Louis, Missouri, where she teaches math and science. She holds a BA in art history from Saint Louis University, as well as a Masters of Bioethics from the University of Pennsylvania and an MA in Health Care Ethics from Saint Louis University. Her work has been featured in various publications, including Harpur Palate, Sonder Midwest, Esoterica Magazine, and other outlets. Her writing reflects her interest in exploring the lived experiences of women and their relationships, while also incorporating elements from the realms of science and the natural world. She can be reached at Heidi.pieroni@gmail.com.