I Lost My Vibrator In The Breakup

You lose a lot of things in a breakup. You lose your partner, of course. But also to varying degrees you lose your feelings of security, dignity and trust. You lose that incredible French toast recipe only he committed to memory and all the TV shows you had saved in your TiVo queue. Maybe, like me, you only realize after the fact that you left behind your apron, a bunch of your socks, and a pair of mittens. Or, horror of horrors, also like me, you leaped out of bed one night, furiously looking in the designated Bag O’ Sex Toys you discreetly moved out of your apartment, looking for that one vibrator with the out-of-this-world speeds … and you realize you lost it.

I don’t know what I was thinking when I moved out of our apartment after the breakup. My dad and my sister drove me back to my old okace with a car full of empty suitcases and boxes. I whispered to my sister before we left that I needed her to distract my dad and keep him occupied in the other room while I packed up my sex toys. She whispered back an OK. When we got there, I waited until Dad was in the bathroom and hastily threw some of my things in a Forever 21 bag.

Mr. Jessica and I had kept our sexytime accessories in a large Victoria’s Secret bag next to the bed. My three vibrators were in there, my favorite Booty Parlor lube, my other favorite lube (K-Y warming jelly), condoms, massage oil, some scarves, a candle that melts into body oil, and a penis pump that Amelia gave me awhile ago which both of us were afraid of and never used.

What did I grab in my haste? The unused penis pump, because I am an idiot, and only two of the three vibrators, because I am an even bigger idiot.

Good bye, Booty Parlor lube.

Goodbye, candle that melts into body oil.

And goodbye, JimmyJane vibe.

I actually don’t even really like that JimmyJane vibrator. Mr. Jessica bought it for me as a surprise and I thought $135 was a ridiculous amount of money — which we didn’t really have — to spend on some random sex toy that I hadn’t given him input on. I disliked the shape and the utility of it. And because I barely ever used it, I knew the batteries on it were fresh.

So last night when I furiously needed to get the job done and my beloved Trojan Tri-Phoria wasn’t doing it, I snatched the Forever 21 bag out from my under my couch. Fumbling in the darkness, I looked and looked and looked … and realized the toy was gone. I left it behind. It’s like the sex toy version of the post-apocalyptic “Left Behind” series. When the rapture comes, will you have the sex toy you need?!?!

Either that or my niece found it when she was playing in my bedroom this weekend. Damn, I guess I should go check the toybox.

Original by Jessica Wakeman