“I can only achieve orgasm defecating in a diaper.”
Holding hands with a boy at a movie theater or even a semi-romantic food court lunch seemed to trigger some deep need to evacuate my stomach contents.
A chick with a made-up name who came from a family of underwater fantasy creatures? That would have been my jam had it not been for the actual events that occurred over the following year.
How I'm Handling My Boyfriend’s Suicide Attempt and What’s Next for a Couple When One Partner Is Depressed
If I had some remotely similar experience to draw from, maybe I would have half a clue what to do right now. But, I don’t.