The first (and possibly, the only) man I ever really loved was... well, let's just call him by his old petname, "RocketMan." ;-) He and I met in the 6th grade. He wasn't all that bright, so the only classes we had together were Band and Gym. To tell you the truth, in the beginning, I actually had my eye on his best friend, who was also in the class. BUT... HE was the one who seemed fascinated with me and for some reason, loved to horse around in the locker room.
But I digress. I didn't start falling for him until the 6th grade overnight Band Trip to Busch Gardens. We shared a hotel room with two other guys with only two beds, so we chillaxed on the floor; as you might guess, fooling around ensued.
After nearly three years of courting back and forth and after his best friend moved away, he and I started hanging out at each other's houses every day after school. As I got to know him and realize that he was NOT as dense as I originally thought, I fell head over heels for him. And so, on one fateful Saturday afternoon in May of 2001, we both lost our virginity... while my parents were in the living room right above us. XD
Our relationship was almost entirely a secret, until one of my girl friends heard him say something she shouldn't have (about a "private sleepover invitation"), one day in English class. Back then, I liked the secrecy, I liked holding onto the hope that I was just bisexual... but nowadays, I feel that there's no place for secrecy in a mature relationship and VERRRRRRRRRY few men out there are worth hiding who you are.
Sadly, once we reached high school, we never had another class together and rarely ran into each other, but whenever we did and STILL do, it's as if no time has passed whatsoever and just the sound of his voice makes the hairs on my neck stick up... in a good way.
I'm extremely glad and lucky that my first time was with someone who I genuinely loved and will always love, now as a friend. We're forever connected and nothing will ever change that. ♥
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