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June 25, 2002
I haven't told this story before
First off, thank you all for the nice comments about the last entry. I'm okay -- a little disappointed, but hey, shit happens, right? It'll all work out.
I'm way behind on the June Journal Smackdown, so you get a sordid tale today. Good trade? You decide. This is a combination of two topics, because they're so intertwined that I can't separate them into two stories.
I really didn't date much before college. I had a couple of pseudo-boyfriends in high school -- you know, those weird situations where you're "going out" with someone, but since neither of you has a car, it mostly involves holding hands in the hallways and maiking out at school dances? Yeah. I had a couple of those, but nothing else until college. I left small-town Vermont and moved to Boston two weeks before college started, because of an ill-advised desire to join the intermural soccer team. (I'm the worst soccer player ever. No, really.) I was one of only two people on my floor in my dorm -- the other was a lovely girl named Sue. She and I became friends quickly, and spent most of our time together, wandering the city. The day everyone else arrived, I was doing laundry, and was dressed in a ripped-up pair of jeans and a ratty t-shirt. In between loads, I wandered to Sue's room to see what she was doing. She had company -- I could hear her talking to someone as I approached her door. I hesitated before knocking, not wanting to disturb her, but she looked up and saw me, and invited me in. Her guest was a guy who lived on our floor. It was weird -- it still is. I mean, I don't believe in love at first sight. It's a corny notion, and just not possible. So I don't know what this was. I walked in, and looked at him, and... well, that was it. I was floored. It wasn't looks, though he was awfully nice to look at. It wasn't charm, because he hadn't spoken yet. It was... I don't know. But I was smitten from that first look. We sat and talked -- at least I think we did. I have no idea. I probably just sat there and gibbered until I thought of an excuse and fled, weak in the knees and feeling foolish.
Later that night, we had an orientation activity -- a hypnotist. My roommate and I went, and I drove her crazy craning my neck to see if this person who had had the strangest effect on me would be there. He walked in, and I thought of a lame excuse to move and sit next to him. We sat and goofed around during the show -- both of us failed that little test to see if we could be hypnotized -- you know, the one where the hypnotist tries to convince you that you can't open your fists? Yeah. We failed, and spent the rest of the show trying to figure out who was faking it, and laughing until our stomachs hurt. Afetr the show, I couldn't let him leave, so I (oh, the shame) asked him to go to a frat party with me. He said yes, so we followed the crowd to a dark, dilapidated brownstone, where we paid $5 for a cup, and then pissed off the frat brothers by sitting in a corner talking all night. They finally told us to leave, saying we were "bringing the party down." We spent most of the next week together -- I was trying desperately to hide my feelings for him, because I was so sure he wouln't feel the same way. My roommates wanted to fling me out a window, I was so pathetic. Finally, the last night of orientation came: a cruise around the harbor. I asked if he would go with me, and he said yes -- but he laughed at the idea of being my date, which shrivelled my little heart. We went together anyway. and while all our classmates were dancing up a storm to the DJ on the boat, we sat by the rail and talked. I was cold, having ignored the advice to wear long pants and a sweater. He gave me his jacket, and put his arms around me -- to warm me up, he said. I finally blurted out something about having fallen for him, so hard... and he said nothing. Nothing, for so long... (though it was probably a few seconds. I don't know.) Then he sighed, and said he was relieved, because he'd fallen for me too, and didn't know how to tell me. That was the start of my first love -- it was brief, but very sweet.
We were both clueless about the whole relationship thing. We were so afraid, because we'd been friends first -- we didn't want to ruin it. We were afraid to go too far, I think... and we hadn't really dated at all. We went from friends to a relationship overnight, literally, and we weren't sure how to handle it. We came close do doing the deed a few times, but each time, I chickened out. I was afraid I'd do it wrong, and would panic. I was willing, but afraid, until he told me that he was a virgin too, and was just as afraid of messing the whole thing up as I was. He told me he wanted to wait until we were both sure, because he loved me, and he didn't want to ruin the relationship we were building. So, we waited, until one afternoon when his roommate was out, and a tickle-fight turned into something else altogether, and we ended up in his bed. It was funny -- he looked up at me and said "What flavor?" I was confused until I remembered that one of his high-school buddies had sent him a box of flavored condoms as a gag gift. I laughed then, and told him to surprise me. I think he chose passionfruit (which resulted in another prolonged fit of giggles). It was sweet, and awkward (I remember him confessing that he didn't even know if he was in the right spot, and me laughing and saying "If you weren't, I think I'd know!") and it hurt, but not much -- when I winced, he wanted to stop, but I told him it was supposed ti hurt, and it was okay. There was a lot of laughing, and much sweetness, and then it was done, and we didn't quite know what to say to each other. We lay there together for a bit, and then somehow decided to go get ice cream, and that's the story of my first live, and how I lost my virginity. We broke up a few months later -- he was quitting school and I was staying, and we couldn't figure out how to make it work. The friendship is strange -- on-again and off-again. Right now it seems to be off, but that's okay. The baggage is too heavy, I think. We planned to get married once, ten years ago, and now we aren't in love with each other anymore, and that transition was too hard to make, I think. But I loved him then, and still do, and always will.
Posted by Mary Ellen at June 25, 2002 09:47 AM