I see no more w/us are being accepted in the virginity,my loss of node, but reading it unfortunately made me remember, in great sensory detail, my particular dealing with this milestone.

I met him when I was fifteen and he was about to turn twenty. He was admittedly, very smart, but had decided not to go to college because he was going to write a novel, which, as far as I know, he never wrote and never showed me. He told me my writing was formulaic and crappy. He told me that if I broke up with him, NO ONE else would date me because I was plain and had braces, and wore glasses, and I should actually just be glad I had him. He smoked three packs a day, and whenever I was with him I smelled like smoke.

My mother and father HATED him because of what he did to my personality. I was always on the phone with him, and he would literally cry if I did things with my family instead of his. After all, his family had so much money, and was so much more important in the community! He wouldn’t dance with me at either my junior OR senior prom, and insisted we left about twenty minutes after we got there because ‘he had a headache’. (his constant malady). He wouldn’t come see my plays because they were boring. Wouldn’t go with me to church on Christmas Eve (my favorite church day EVER), and was upset when I went without him.

Anyway, when I was seventeen, we went to Niagra Falls for the day to celebrate our anniversary of dating. (two years I think). He told me in the car on the way up there “I’ve waited long enough. When we get home tonight, you and I are having sex”.

I was nauseated. I absolutely did NOT want to have sex with him. This was about the time when I was realizing I was stuck with a nightmare of a guy I absolutely detested but who gave me the attention and devotion that I thought I needed. I tried desperately to get out of it. Tried the classic “I don’t feel well” and I even offered him a blow job in lieu of intercourse.

No go. He told me I owed it to him. He even made ME go into the drug store and buy the condoms, since he 'didn't care if I got pregnant or not'. He locked the door of his bedroom (he lived at home, his mom was downstairs), turned up the t.v. REALLY LOUD (some Vietnam movie was on), pulled out a Polaroid camera and took pictures of me naked “just in case I decided to leave him”. He knew I liked bondage stuff, so he used it against me and handcuffed me to his bed, awkwardly, on my side, so I was staring at the t.v. He told me to close my eyes and think about a ‘white candle burning’ because it was going to hurt. “You don’t want to come anyway,” he said “so I’ll be quick”.

I watched the movie while he did it. And I cried, and apologized to my mother and father who weren’t there, and I wished and prayed that I’d never talked to him ever, never agreed to go out with him, never kissed him. It was awful. I’ve never felt so gross and ugly and disgusting. Ever.

I broke up with him a few months later (after being forced to do this many times) and he went right to my parents and told them I was a whore, who was sleeping around, but mostly with him.

And when I tried to plead my case, they just shook their heads and said,

“I wish you’d just tell us the truth.”

To this day they don’t believe me. They are disappointed in me for ‘failing’ as a role model for my sister, and they had a loooong discussion with me about whether I should be allowed to wear white at my wedding. If I type any more about that, I'm going to cry. I wish I could cut him out of my head.