Before I die, I want to have sex

We came up with the list when I was 14. Still a virgin, despite what they might have told you. The list, constructed by me and my best friend, both of us had no idea what we were doing.  Young girls, hungry girls. Girls that boys wouldn't look at for a few more years.

Girls that gravitate towards epiphany.

The Awkward and Loud. 

Clumsy, and Happy. 

The Anti-Proud. 

We were ugly ducklings, we were well aware of it.
We made the list for boys who were undeserving, boys who were ignorant to our meticulous planning,

Before I die I want to have sex:

In the backseat of a police car

In my bosses office

On a ferris wheel

In a public park

On a football field

In a library

In a church

On a rooftop

While on my period

In your boyfriend's bed (not with your boyfriend)

On top of a mountain

At a rest stop

In an elevator 

In costume

At a concert

In a hospital bed

In a stranger's house

In a dressing room

In every state

With a woman

On railroad tracks

At 12:00 am on New Years

In an ocean

With a mother

In a grocery store

On a school bus

In a phone booth

Covered in paint

(this continues)

    --the list went on in journals and notebooks. In the margins of text books, and convenient napkins. When an idea came up, we jotted it down to remember so we could discuss the how, with who, and why. 

Almost ten years later, I still refer back to that list. With every boy who's crawled in between my legs, parted my lips with pink tongue and slid fingers up under the lace of my bra, I still think to myself "What's left on that list?".