That's not exactly the case with me.
I didn't love him, that's for sure. We met at a party at a friend's house and we weren't even that tipsy when we agreed to do it in his car. I could hear the laughter resonating in the neighborhood from the party. My senses were paranoid such that every movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I'm new to this, I apologized. It's okay, he said. Just relax.
I could never relax. I would tense up with the kissing. My very first kiss was sloppy and full of tongue. I didn't like it. If ever you'd want to have a good kiss with your boyfriend/girlfriend, don't expect to be good at it the instant your lips touch. You're going to need communication. He told me I should stick my tongue out more and stop being shy. It helped a bit.
We stopped at second there because we saw people coming out of the house. The party had ended.
At first, I didn't know how to feel. I wasn't a person who wanted to save it for marriage. I never saw the point in that. But that doesn't mean I didn't want to do it with someone I loved. Over the days after the incident the realization kept hitting me in the face over and over again. You hit second base. You made out with some guy you barely know. You made out and had your boobs touched by some guy you barely know.
But it boiled down to one night, I was thinking how I didn't feel fulfilled whenever I did it. I felt quite the opposite. I felt empty. I felt empty because the realization that I could not give my firsts to someone I cared about anymore. We would not explore the wonders of sex together because I already knew about them. It would have been totally different if a different set of eyes stared down at me from above. It wouldn't just be lust but also love.
Now these days, when I'm with a guy alone, I always refer to my first time as some sort of reference as to how I should kiss him. When I see people kiss and make those lip-smacking sounds on television, I refer to that night before because I know how it felt and I could imagine the feeling on my lips once again. It isn't nostalgia. It's my mistake haunting me.
Love is a long-term and satisfying feeling. You should look back at those experiences with a smile. Lust can't assure you that feeling in the end. I could not smile. I realized this as I was soaked in my pool of tears in the middle of the night.
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