It was a Wednesday morning in Manhattan. The sun was rising, and I was slowly trying to piece together what I had done the night before.

Oh, that’s right. I had gotten drunk, then decided to hit up my f*ck buddy for his perfect, perfect penis.

As my eyes struggled to adjust to the light, I felt a soft tap on my shoulder and heard softer mumbling.

“I have to go to work soon,” Kyle* said. "I know you have an extra hour to sleep in, but I need you out now. Enjoy!" He kissed me on the shoulder and scurried out of the bedroom.

Was the f*cker actually kicking me out?! Like I was a prostitute who had spent the last 48 hours scheming to steal his sh*t? (Which, by the way, ranges from $20 sweatshirts, to condoms, to gum.)

Did I mention that Kyle and I had been friends with benefits for almost a year now?

I had almost insisted he come over to my place because I had a feeling he was going to do some f*ckboy thing like this. But I'd given him the benefit of the doubt, because we'd known each other a long time, and because I’m a diplomatic person, and... OK, also because he has a big, beautiful dick.

But, and I'll cut right to the chase here: Every guy I’ve ever slept with who had a big dick also had a huge ego. Like, I’m talking Mount f*cking Everest.

Though each penis was slightly different from the next, each guy was a different manifestation of the same archetype: an insecure douchewad who failed to see the merit in being a gentleman.

Something tells me the man-to-penis correlation isn’t a coincidence. Because every time I have great sex, there is a sh*t excuse for a man attached. And, ya know, I’m getting a little tired of sacrificing my mental stability for the sake of good sex.

And don’t even get me started on my ex. My ex had the most incredible schlong of any schlong I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I wanted to photograph it, frame it and stick it on my wall in between my two windows, so every time I got hot in the middle of the night I could open the windows to the breeze and simultaneously have something to look at while I jerked off to fall back asleep.

Still, my ex was also the biggest assh*le I've had the displeasure of knowing -- if you read this story, you'll know he called me fat every five minutes of every day and couldn't control his wandering eye.

What is it about assh*les having great dicks? It's as if they know they can get away with being assh*les because of what they're packing in their pants. And you know what? Whatever they're doing is working because I keep going back for seconds. And thirds. And sixtieths.

On the contrary, it just so happens that the guys I’ve slept with who have -- er, shall I say, unsatisfactory penises? -- have always been pretty decent dudes.

Like Jake*, a guy with great jokes and chivalrous manners, whom I condemned to the friend zone because his penis was a solid five inches. It got the job done, but it didn't exactly blow my mind.

Dating him made me take a step back and reassess WTF my priorities are: great relationship and OK dick or horrible relationship and wonderful dick?

I'm just trying to figure out what's going on here. Is there some secret guys' club where all the well-hung dudes gather and discuss how horrible they're going to be to the women who choose to sleep with them? Or have I just had really, really bad luck?

And to all the gods up in there in the sky, if you exist, why did you create men this way? Is there really no such thing as a well-endowed prince amongst the vast field of pinky-penised good guys? Am I asking for too much here? C'mon, people in healthy relationships with men who also have large man-parts: Tell me your secret.

What does all this mean for me? Should I lower my expectations? Or should I keep f*cking around with f*ckboys who know how to f*ck?

These will be the questions I carry along with me as I continue my journey as Goldilocks in search of the perfect penis. Nothing too big, and nothing too small. Something just right. And, uh, hopefully with the perfect man attached to it.

The reckless part of me wants to keep f*cking around with big-dicked douchebags. But the aspiring wife and mother wants to quit f*cking around and settle down with the decent-dicked, good guy already.

It'll be difficult. I hate to sound shallow, but when you’ve had the unmatchable, impeccable unicorn dick I’ve had, it's hard to settle for anything less. Size matters, and that’s the hard truth.

*Name has been changed.