It was pouring outside, and we were drenched by the time we got there. My inhibitions were hazy by the drink and the marijuana, the incense was burning, and the candles were lit, the lights were off, and Bob Marley played from the stereo. I was 16 years old, my birthday only days before, and I had met him in a park that night after my high school boyfriend ditched me. He asked if I was okay with it all and sure I wanted to do what we were about to do, and he tried to make it perfect for me.

And it was. It hurt a little, maybe not too much because of the drugs in my system, and he did things to my body I never thought possible. The chills ran down my spine just by the way he would kiss my neck, and run his fingers very lightly down the insides of my arms. His long hair fell into my face and it smelled of strawberries, the little stubble on his chin tickled my skin.

The sun rose and woke up sleepily next to a man I didn't recognize, but it was okay. He made me breakfast in bed and asked if I was okay, and gave me a long hug as I said goodbye. He called me many times afterwards, but I refused to see or talk to him, and eventually told him never to call again. I had the perfect experience losing my virginity, and I didn't want to ruin the illusion of the perfect guy who I lost it with. Not all experiences are bad. Sometimes I wish my current ones would come at least a little close to that night.