Sex Perplexed

When I was in middle school, I had a sex education teacher, this cute petite woman that used to wear coordinating cotton short sets, who stood before the class one day and told us with a smile that we would never regret waiting to fall in love before we decided to have sex.
I am now a 24-year-old virgin that doesn't even believe in love. At this moment in time, I can not think of a decision I regret more than waiting.
I see now what I did not see at thirteen: waiting is not for those that do not have patience.
You see, Cute-Petite forgot to mention that if you are a virgin past eighteen, all you attract is ass hole cherry poppers because all the normal guys dodge you like bullets. They fear that you will get "attached." This may be true, for I can not think of anything at this moment that I am attached to more than my hymen.
Cute-petite also left out that the longer you keep your hymen, the pickier you are about who you let tear it. No matter how eager I am to bone, I just can not see myself under the guys that I am surrounded with; technical school dropouts with blotchy marijuana stained lips and a Black and Mild behind their ear. They usually come equipped with their own customized low-rider, perfect for cruising the mall parking lot or housing some good spirited premarital smashing numerous girls.
I have now even entered that red zone where the doctor offers to break my hymen during pelvic exams. This is something else Cute-Petite forgot to inform me about. Either I lose my virginity to some inexperienced loser in high school, keep my virginity until I'm 100, or lose it on a hard, steel table to a pair of cold vagie tongs.
Then, of course, there are those uncomfortable comments from sexually active people. "I wish I waited," they said slowly with an irritating, stiff smile. "You should be happy you waited," they assure you as they answer booty call texts on their Blackberries.
Do not misunderstand me. I guess that I am proud of myself for having something that most women my age do not have, even if I did not have much of a choice of doing anything besides keep it.
I also understand that I have single-handily lowered my chances of STDs and VDs and blah, blah, blah.
Perhaps I'm just impatient. I don't know.
Either way, I could still go back in time and kick Cute-Petite in her smiling face. She was always so damn happy. I bet she had a lot of sex.