What Came Next.

After we broke up the humiliation of being laughed at by his friends subsided but the real humiliation came days later when I got a call from his best friend. We had gone on double dates before and I liked him, he was nice to me and always treated me like a lady, he was a good friend and a good person. He had called me to check on me, he heard we had broken up and he knew his friend had done me wrong.

The first time we talked it was awkward, I could tell that he thought his friend was a dickhead but he was still loyal to him. He was honest with me and told about all the times I thought R (my ex) was hanging out with his cousins he was really out with girls. It was nice to know the truth but the truth hurt, I felt like someone had ripped my heart out, once again I felt like I wasn’t good enough. When we said goodbye he said he would call again later and I was shocked when he actually did.

We started talking every night, there was no ulterior motive, we just talked. We talked about life, school, friends, our parents, what we wanted to do, who we wanted to be, what we were afraid of; we talked for hours everynight. Every morning I woke up for school exhausted from staying up the night before talking. I learned a lot about myself talking to him, he was the first really honest person I had been friends with, he didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear, he told you what he thought.

Slowly, I healed from the breakup with R and even though S was friends with him, he was surprisingly unbiased. He didn’t tell R that we talked then, it just made it easier. We didn’t know where our friendship would lead us but we both related to one another in a way neither or us had ever before. We talked every night for months before we decided to see each other again.

After months of late nights, talking about anything and everything on our minds it was no surprise that we started to have feelings for each other. When I saw him again it was very different than the first time I met him. When R introduced us I didn’t pay much attention to him because he was just R’s friend, but the first time I saw him after the breakup was shocking for me. I hadn’t realized how cute he was, his eyes twinkled, his smile looked mischevious, and his skin was like smooth, creamy coffee.

We decided to get together while I was still on break for Christmas but I had already started soccer. My practice was running late and when he got to the house I was still in my soccer clothes. Being a teenager in a house all alone and needing to take a shower while a guy is there is one way to make hormones rage. Needless to say we ended up making out with each other and then some, I don’t remember if we ended up leaving my house all my memories that day are reserved for what happened in my room.

He told me that day that he wished that he could have been my first and I did too. He was the first and only guy I ever had sex with knowing what an amazing person he was BEFORE we did it. I had imagined what having sex with him would be like, I knew it would happen but I had no idea of the emotional connection I would have with him. At that moment, the very first time, everything seemed perfect.

 

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The Beginning

I wasn’t allowed to date until I was 16, my mom thought this was an acceptable age and to be honest it didn’t really bother me at all. The second I turned 16 however, I became obsessed with having a boyfriend, I think part of it was getting some male attention and the other part was wanting to be like the other girls. I wasn’t terribly popular in school, I wasn’t a dork but I was just somewhere in between, I’ve sort of always been in between.

By the age 16 I had already kissed a guy but only once and truthfully, I was drunk. I liked a few guys at school but never wanted to date anyone at my own school for fear of total humiliation when the inevitable breakup came. Needless to say, I was at a loss for finding a guy to date and to make it worse he kind of needed to like me too, I was screwed.

The summer after I turned 16 I went to work for my mom’s boss, answering phones and doing office work here and there. I had just gotten a car and was needing money to keep my gas tank full and something to do during the day to keep me from sleeping till noon so a job was the perfect solution. Working with my mom wasn’t so bad since I wasn’t working for her and she was always super busy working on new houses (she was a lighting designer).

One day, on my lunch break, I saw a new guy in the back, he was cute and he always watched me when I was around and soon I found that I really liked that about him. At 16 I still thought I was ugly and fat and no one would ever like me so this was a welcome change, he actually seemed interested. Immediately my infatuation began.

I stopped eating lunch because 1) I didn’t want him to see me eating and 2) chewing meant less time to flirt talk with him. Things went on like this for a few weeks and then one of my friends that worked there decided to ask him if he liked me, I was mortified when I found out but when she told me he did like me I was elated. Finally, someone liked me.

My mom told me that I was one of those girls that guys didn’t appreciate until college. I didn’t understand why, I had a ton of guy friends and we always got along great, why was that always the extent of our relationship? One brilliant day I realized what she meant, I was fat and guys in high school don’t go for fat girls. My mother knew this because she was a fat girl in high school too, she dealt with the ton friends that are boys and never a boyfriend. She had the best intentions, she told me I was beautiful and smart but the seed had already been planted. I wanted nothing more than to prove her wrong, to show her that I could get a boyfriend and I would do whatever it took to do so.

So that summer when the first boy that said he like me asked me out I jumped at the offer. I didn’t pay attention to the fact that he was older (not much but he was over 18), had dropped out of school, didn’t have a car and was pretty much a loser, none of that mattered to me because he said he liked me.

Our first date was nice, he took me to the movies (he borrowed his friend’s truck), I was so nervous I thought I was going to puke. When he finally kissed me I thought I had died and gone to heaven, I loved this feeling and I never wanted it to end.

We went out a few more times and then one night I realized that I thought I loved him (I was pathetic, I know). The last thing I wanted was to breakup with him so I knew what I needed to do. My mom always made comments about couples that had been together a while, she always said, “She must be putting out.” I honestly think it was meant as a harsh judgement but to a young girl that wants nothing more than to be loved it just made sense, I had to put out if I wanted to keep him.

He didn’t push me, I think this is because he never really liked me at all but I insisted we have sex. I wanted a boyfriend, I wanted him and more than anything I wanted to know what everyone was talking about.

By the end of the summer he had gotten a car and was coming over to my house after work, he stayed late and I usually walked him out to his car after everyone was asleep. It was one of these nights that I was walking him out that we decided to finally “do it.” Looking back, it was the tackiest and most distasteful story of some one’s first time. I was on the hood of my car in my parent’s driveway and at the time I was just so happy that he actually wanted me that I didn’t even care.

It was all downhill from there, he was moving to Austin and I had convinced him we should try it long distance (like we had some special connection). After a very short time I got a phone call from another girl and his cousin, both saying there were other girls, I didn’t want to believe it because I was young and stupid. Eventually I embarrassed myself to my fullest extent and finally gave in and called him to meet me. I was going to break up with him, I had had enough of feeling like shit.

When he got there he didn’t let me talk, he took me aside (he had brought all his friends with him) and told me that it just wasn’t going to work between us, the son of a bitch beat me to it. He had a condescending tone and looked at me with pity in his eyes, I had never felt so low before. When he got in the car his friends didn’t even wait to drive away before they started laughing at me.

This was the beginning of my quest for love, I might share more stories with you but this was the one that started it all, this one made me feel differently, act differently, live differently and think differently. This was the beginning.