Someone I was texting once told me I had “volcel energy” — as in voluntary celibate, as in the stolid aura of a woman who doesn’t bother to fuck. This is a hilarious but horrible thing to hear from a person with whom you’ve been flirting. Shortly after, during one of our regular bedtime conversations, they found it opportune to complain about a previously unmentioned girl they’d been sexting. Well, damn. It’s not that I wanted to escalate from the talking stage, necessarily, but I was slightly miffed to be passed over for consideration.
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