He asked me once, when it was all over (as over as it's gotten so far) if I regretted it. I said no, of course, because what else do you say to your object of infatuation? But the question snuck its way into my unconscious, taking a look at this and at that considering, nodding sagely to itself, occasionally making the low, long whistle you associate with repairmen and then, finally, nudging me. Going "Oh... hey, by the way, your answer's yes".
He was my first boyfriend, first love, first sexual partner, in that order. I'd noticed him around campus, here and there, before I knew his name. I still remember the flash of keen interest when I first saw him, although I don't remember the place. I never thought I would actually get to know him. I don't seem very good at talking to people I think I'll like, but I was happily surprised when he turned out to be the friend of a friend, therefore easily accessible for me to practice on.
He was with another girl, tiny and elfin-pretty and athletic, and I didn't think I should or really, truthfully could compete. He even offered once; she was very Christian, and he was very horny, and they'd come to an 'agreement'. I still said no, there's no way she'd really feel good about that, remembering her glares, and he regretfully agreed. I was still thrilled - it was the closest to romance that I'd ever been.
And then they broke up
A few weeks later, she'd found another boyfriend, although there were suspicious murmurs that it was just a stand-in for her previous relationship. I, in my joyful naiveté, paid no heed as he had started flirting with me, yet another novel experience. Over the spring break we talked long into the night, and decided that we should start kind of going out. (he wanted it to seem natural) I wondered a bit if it was too soon, but hey, his ex had hooked up, so why not?
His ex began promising him that she'd now give in and 'fool around'. She asked him to come over, just for a hug. She gave him mournful, soulful looks. And I didn't care, because I knew where she was coming from, after all. Wasn't I now learning to appreciate this boy? How terrible it would be to lose him, and of course it'd take her some time to get over it - in the meantime, she had all my sympathy.
The thing I miss the most about myself is that I meant it genuinely.
We had a blissful few months during the year. I was feeling all sorts of novel things, delighting in them for the sake of their newness as well as for their intrinsic value. Slowly, and surely I began to fall in love. His perfectly matched sense of humor, his silliness, the fact that he knew when to stop being silly, his wit and breathtaking competence with a computer (competence is sexy). He kind of brought it up once, saying he wasn't sure how he felt, but it made me realize how I did. And I told him that I love you. I don't remember when he started, but he did start saying 'I love you' back. At that point, the only thing marring my happiness was the thought of summer, since he lived so far away.
The summer was enlightening. I started learning what a bitch it is to be without the one you love, how lonely I could feel. We emailed each other all of the time, as he got more and more frustrated with the limited contact. Eventually, he asked about how I felt about him fooling around with other girls.
Did I neglect to mention how confidently close his ex was to his house?
Well, I do have a very very strong jealous streak, and so I said no. And although I wasn't sure how well he'd hold to it, I thought he was the kind of person who would at least tell me if he'd done anything.
As the summer went on, his ex visited a couple times, maybe. He also was helping another girl he knew from high school on her webpage. The fact made a slight 'ping' in my brain, but I paid it no mind. I took the train and bus and bus to his house any weekend I could, not being independently mobile, and we had great fun whenever I came over.
Then the school year started, and at first it was just as fun as before. But then he started getting more distant, telling me that he still found himself wanting other people. Desperately, I tried to analyze this response in a way that meant he still liked me. Unsurprisingly, it did not work. A couple weeks into the school year he broke up with me, and I was devastated.
A couple weeks later, as he was fooling around with a new chick, he felt the need to unburden his conscience and tell me that he'd cheated on me with two girls, one being his ex, the other the one he 'helped'. At least he apologized. Not that it was much comfort when I visited a friend's room and saw him and his new chick together on the bed.
Now I'm lonely, in ways that I never knew before. I'm jealous, because of course he's still fooling around with anyone he can, including his ex... well, ex-ex. It doesn't stop anyone I meet from finding her devistatingly attractive, and feeling a need to let me know. My ego has hit an all time low.
I wonder if I'll ever have the courage to tell him that I do regret it. I can't see how it was worth it. I've lost my innocence, and I miss it so much more than my virginity.