He sits, wrapped in his blue bathrobe, in the leather swivel desk chair in his bedroom. "Am I really only twenty percent?" he asks, fiddling with his Rubik's cube as he often does immediately after having sex.
Don't compare yourself to your high school friends. Don't compare yourself to your college friends. Don't compare yourself to coworkers. Don't compare yourself to anyone. You're doing just fine.
Every time you go on a date, you're faced with 347 "rules" on how to act, what to say, when to call him, when to kiss him and how to play "the game." We're done with that.