We Didn't by Stuart Dybeck

Gold Coast.

Every so often a short story emerges out of nowhere and completely blows me away. We Didn't by Stuart Dybek is one of those rare gems and it is such a thrill to discover new short-story writers otherwise unfamiliar to me. Before stumbling upon this title in the anthology My Mistress’s Sparrow Is Dead, edited by Jeffrey Eugenides (a collection of short stories exploring various facets of love), Stuart Dybek's name never crossed my radar. But if this piece is any indication of his talent, consider me an instant fan. His writing possesses a raw, exuberant energy full of wit and charm that is utterly captivating. 

The male narrator is reflecting on his youth, when he was eager to lose his virginity with his girlfriend on a beach. This is an ambitious and impractical choice, given the difficulties of being inconspicuous. Not to mention the problem of sand creeping into inconvenient places. Just as they teeter on the edge of physical intimacy, their amorous activities are shattered by the arrival of police responding to a body that has washed ashore. The sudden shift from erotic anticipation to a stark confrontation with mortality is well-rendered, turning the scene into a darkly ironic spectacle of disappointment. Talk about a mood killer.

Writing about sex—especially young, inexperienced sex—is a notoriously difficult feat, yet Dybek navigates it with remarkable finesse. He captures the urgency, awkwardness, and fumbling tenderness of first love, blending humor, poignancy, and realism in a way that feels authentic. The intimacy he portrays is not just physical but deeply emotional, layered with unspoken desires, insecurities, and the weight of burgeoning adulthood. His prose is poetic yet grounded, striking that rare balance between sensuality and sentimentality without ever feeling contrived.

In this story, it is not just about the physical act of sex but about everything that surrounds it—desire, hesitation, the weight of expectations (often gendered), and the profound sense of longing that often defines young relationships. He writes with a keen sensitivity to the nuances of emotional connection, showing how love and sex are not just physical experiences but deeply psychological ones. Both the narrator and his girlfriend grapple with unspoken fears, the fragility of their own self-perceptions, and the unpredictability of real-life circumstances—such as the grim and unexpected presence of death in the midst of their passion.

I find myself particularly drawn to Dybek's poetic yet unpretentious prose. He has a way of infusing even the most awkward, clumsy, or fumbling moments with a beauty that feels entirely organic rather than forced. He understands that intimacy is as much about what isn’t said as what is, and his ability to evoke emotion through subtext and small, evocative details makes his storytelling all the more powerful. The juxtaposition of passion with mortality elevates the story beyond a simple coming-of-age narrative. It becomes a meditation on love’s fleeting nature, the unpredictability of life, and the way that moments of intimacy can be both transformative and incomplete.

We Didn't is a testament to Dybek’s skill in writing about love and sex in ways that feel achingly real in all its inherent contradictions: messy, beautiful, and profoundly human.