My BYU freshman daughter called me to tell me alllll about breaking up with her first real boyfriend. It was a very convoluted conversation but I got the idea that he liked her a lot more than she liked him but she didn't want to hurt him and oh! this dating thing is so hard, someone always gets hurt. How she wished she had not let him hold her hand! Or hug her! She felt so cheap giving it away to someone she didn't really love.
Flash back a couple of years. I had just returned home from a week-long trip. This same daughter corners me late that night and procedes to scare the hell out of me. "So I found your high school journal." Oh, shit. I still had that? "Is it true what you wrote?" You mean about having lots of sex with my boyfriend? Yeah. "Well," she turned towards me, hand on hip, "that explains a lot."
I still don't know what the hell she meant.