My First Time

John

There is a lot to be said about the first time you have sex. You never forget that person, that moment and that *facepalm* feeling, “what were you thinking?” In the words of Mike Birbiglia, “At least no one saw it.”

John and I only dated for about five months, but it would a life changing five months.

Recently I told my best friend Sarah (friends since 4th grade) that if I had never met John we wouldn’t have met half of the friends we spend time with to this day. If I hadn’t dated John she may have never met her fiance. (More detail on this in a future post)

I met John (or Johnny) through a friend on Facebook. Johnny, my friend/his friend and I all ran cross country. I wasn’t running any longer though and was still dealing this a very painful back and neck injury due to soccer. We met via facebook, like any weird high school relationship starts. Note: This is such an embarrassing story for me personally.

We planned to meet at the local mall, like any young teenager with no real concept of hanging out places. My best friend Sarah came, even though I knew Johnny was a real person (thanks to my friend who knew him) Sarah just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a murder. He wasn’t a murder just in case anyone’s wondering, but after dating him and how we broke up I will say he turned out to be an asshole.

Funny Side Note: When Sarah and I first met John we both thought the same thing, ” wow he’s shorter than I thought he be.” He wasn’t super short, like he as taller than both Sarah and I. Still he was shorter than we had anticipated.

Dating in high school was so simple. Compared to dating as an adult, where you have discussions, share of each other’s emotional baggage and have an exchange of traits. Adult dating is like watching a National Geographic mating video, The Mating rituals of the Savannah” Where you watch a very bloody mating display of lion and you’re like “I want none of that.” So you go drink wine in your sweats and hang out on Tumblr.

But high school was easy. “Will you be my girl?” “Yes.” Done.


Like how it states in my title: My First Time

Johnny was my first time. I think I was 17 years old. Johnny was 17 too and only a few weeks older than me. A Taurus, I’m a Gemini.

Note: I don’t believe in horoscope in any way. I’m not laying out stones on my body or painting my body with symbols. I just the ironic description of horoscope and I believe it’s a simple/basic profile of someones personality and most people from all over understand horoscopes so there. 

We had sex. It was fine. Johnny had sex with his girlfriend before me, who moved away he claimed. I had never had sex and I was the first one out of the majority of people I knew to have sex. In his bedroom, with the TV night movie special, Catch me if you can. Surrounded by superheroes and a childhood still being played out. The moment you realize this is a stepping into who you will become, but as a young kid it’s a different thought than it is looking back on the moment.

The moment you realize this is a stepping into who you will become, but as a young kid it’s a different stepping stone you think about. As an adult you think about all the baggage it created and as a teenager it was “I’m fucking having sex!”

Did I want to have sex? Yes and No. Was I a bit hesitate? Yes. Did he push me a little bit to have sex. Oh yeah. Does this thought make me a bit uneasy as an adult? Of course.

Johnny was the first in a long line of guys I gave myself to. Gave up my body to and trying to become the definition of pleasure. I would win love through sex I thought and this only intensified after how our relationship ended.

Johnny had this long lost love for years. Some girl he just only loved but she never loved him back, until one day she did. At the end of our relationship from what I was told they started seeing each other, very intimately.

Johnny was a loser. He would go on to say this other girl was his “Jenny” and he was “Forrest Gump.”

WHAT! No.

This is how we would end. Through a terrible movie analogy.


Months afterward we would meet up again to chat.

I was still into him (but dating a friend of his) And he knew I still was into him and used this to his advantage. (We also hooked up a few times when we were both single throughout the months of fall) But one day a few weeks when I was dating one his friends we met up. Which just turned into me pointing out I knew he slept with her when we were still together and him asking me why I was seeing his friend.

And this moment I will never forget:

Johnny then told me ” no one will ever love you. No one will ever want to marry you.”

I know this is not true. But how would you feel, at 18 years old, from the first guy you had sex with? It was heart breaking for many years. Sometimes I think back to this conversation and wonder if he cursed me somehow because here I am single at 25.


Years Later

We wouldn’t talk for a long time after that conversation. Then, because he had a hold on me for the longest time. That silent sexual energy, that enegry you get from having sex and loving them. I had also just had a very awful break up with my boyfriend I had been with for four years. John was smart and he prayed on my recent break up. But our conversations and talk all ended one day when he was hitting on me via text.

John: “What did you do on your Saturday night?”

Me: “Oh just spent time with friends, went to the bars and danced. You?”

John: Oh not much, just went out, danced, did some nose candy…”

Nose Candy…? NOSE CANDY! Out of all the slang, lingo, short talk he picked NOSE CANDY! How about you just say I did some blow, or I don’t know I did cocaine. Good old cocaine

Also, John was well aware that drugs are not the way to my heart. At 25 years old I haven’t even smoked a cigarette or smoked pot. If you want to, cool. I’ve never been interested in any of it. It’s like coconut. Some people love it and some people don’t. Or like Anal.

So after this very weird text message it kind of hit me how much this guy had really hurt me, used me and was a loser. So I told him to leave me alone (Because he was also notorious for sneaking his way back into my life)

And now I call him Mr. Nose Candy.

Mr. Nose Candy would forever set in motion how I felt about my body and he was the first trip down the stairs, the first roll of the snowball effect, the one I looked back on when someone left me. When I felt like my body, my sex wasn’t enough to keep a man.

My relationship with John would be the knife in my back I would feel after numerous boyfriends cheated on me.

John was the first.

So how do I think about my first time now? I think about a bird molting.

 That’s the image in my mind.

A bird losing its wings.

It’s a Start

As I’ve stated, this blog is a fresh start. Since my old blog (the one I lost passwords on top of passwords to) is at a lost.

The last few days  haven’t been sure of what I should post. Should I talk about why I started blogging in the first place? Maybe list of facts about myself? Just start in the middle of things?

**I’ve decided to write about the beginning of things: The first butterflies, first broken hearts and the first time I felt everything in my life had been going according to plan. A perfect story book.

I was so naive.

Note: All names have been changed. 

BEN (First butterflies in my stomach)

I’m not sure when I first met Ben, but during  3rd grade a cute skinny stick boy walked in front of me. Pale skin, with glasses bigger than his face. Ben was sweet, funny; think Gilmore Girls character, “Dean” meets 3rd grader Ben. His smile gave me butterflies. It felt right, like so many of my favorite movies talked about. The smile a young maiden would give. I imaged my smile was the same. So, I was crushed when I found out he was moving elementary schools. (The school was a mile away) We wrote letters, called each other on our home phones. We were young and feeling the deepest emotions a child could feel. It seems so silly now as an adult, but in the moments of my childhood I wasn’t. I felt butterflies and only that mattered.

_______

Phone calls…

You know I don’t get many phone calls from guys at my age now. No late night talks, no conversations flying by. I suppose when you’re an adult and sex is in the mixing bowl, the phone calls go out the window and right into the trash can.

________

As I was saying, Ben and I would call each other. We sent postcards from the far away places we traveled to with family. Then at one-point everything just stopped. I don’t if it was me who stopped calling him or he stopped writing me. I found other boys to crush on, like Brandon. Oh, there was no chance in hell with Brandon, but I was dreamer.

In 6th grade, Brandon was the cool boy with perfect flipped up hair and skater jeans. I was an awkward tomboy, who hated any type of clothing that would restrict my body movement during recess soccer. Embarrassingly enough, I fell into Brandon’s lap one time waiting in line after recess. A snotty little nose girl named Jenny Bri pushed me and bam! Magic. It was a heat! A sensation all in one. Ahh, “the sexual encounters of a 6th grader” Yep, I was living the dream back then

It wouldn’t be until junior high when I would run into Ben again. My friends, remembering how much he meant to me squealed in glee when they found out we were both going to the same junior high school. He ended up being in my 8th grade Drama class. He had gained a considerable amount of weight, but still wore too big, almost Harry Potter looking glasses. Ben was still sweet, funny and always smiling. After a few awkward conversations, smiles and nods we never spoke again. The butterflies were no longer there. We went to different high schools. He joined the basketball team, thinned down to stick boy again and I joined Speech and Debate; gained some much-lacking confidence in myself. We never spoke again and after high school I never saw him again.

We never spoke again and after high school I never saw him again.

**Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing.

Ben was the beginning of how I thought each boy should treat me: sweet and kind. He was also the top of the hill; my downwards tumble into the wrong kind of man.