Boy Meets Girl Part II

Where was I?

Seventeen years old, had just gone to my first ball and had just met that special guy who I thought could be the one. Not The One but the First One, if you get what I mean. Which I'm sure you do.

We met up again, not entirely according to plan. Said Specimen (let's make it SS) was going to pick me up and go for a drive to the beach, or so he said. As the night wore on, SS got later and later. It got far too late to be allowed out of the house, yet alone out with a boy. SS was out drinking with his mates and said he would come later. I fell asleep, and got woken up from a phone call around 2am. SS was outside.

Let me make excuses for myself here: I had been waiting for over two weeks to see SS again (those in lust will empathise with how long that is) and my judgment was somewhat clouded. No way would I put up with a guy being that late to meet me today. I also, really really liked him. And did not just want to shag him, but be with him.

And I was also, very very much, seventeen years old.

I went outside. SS and I got driven by his friend to SS's car. SS drove car somewhere romantic. (Pssh you say, how romantic can the inside of a suspected Honda Prelude be?) Make out session in car followed.

More fuzziness I'm afraid...

But I can tell you I was wearing a short denim skirt and baby blue top. Small details; bad sign I still remember. I also remember saying cheekily

"So when are you going to ask me out?"

SS replied:

"If I went out with you I'd go out with you for ages, that's how sweet you are."

Typical avoidance of the question, and I wasn't dumb enough not to know that, I just... got carried away.

And I guess it went as bad as first times go.

To this day, I don't know exactly why I did it, I suppose I just fancied him so much. Maybe, it was partly because I had already decided that I would do it with him, and once I've decided on something I don't generally wait. Which I should've. SS was surprised, but being a male, didn't complain.

Can I add that SS is drop dead gorgeous, charming as a charity salesperson and a master of pleasurrrrre? Haha.

At least he texted me the next day. But things were a bit weird. I had kind of ascertained that he was not someone I wanted to date. If I didn't want grey hair at 25, that is.

I saw him again, to 'get him out of my system.' We went out to play pool, I can't remember who won. I remember what I wore though; Levis and a mossimo singlet, go figure. It was kind of distracting watching his bum while he shot. And he looked so sexy concentrating. Anyway...

More fuzziness, it happened again, was a lot better.

I wasn't in touch with SS much after that, except (from the advice of friends) for a few particularly cutting messages. I remember one of them being something like,

"You know, you're such a committment phobe that by the time you're fifty you'll still be trying to get laid by sixteen year olds."

Funnily enough, as he told me later, SS said I made him feel really bad. In fact, as quoted in Bebo, one of his fears is "Not being able to find 'the one'..." (note: not a stalker, call it research for the story)

The way he acts (more later), you wouldn't think he was afraid at all.

I'm running out of time again, so I'll get to the point of this story later.

All I can say is at this stage, I was pretty over him. Deleted his number and all.

Why is it that you can never forget, or rid yourself of your First One?

....regardless of how bad the first time was.

More soon I promise

xx L