Like a Virgin

I have a couple posts that have been sitting in my drafts but the past two days I have gotten some inspiration to write. I have been listening to this AMAZING podcast called Guys We F***ed [] (pretty much the same idea that inspired this blog ie what I want this blog to be but I’m not as funny) is inspiration number one. Inspiration number two is the guy I lost my virginity to looked at my LinkedIn this week (What’s with all these LinkedIn boys – see Hot Med Student Kid). I have been thinking a lot about the night I lost my virginity so why not write about it.

I had my first kiss at 15 with my first boyfriend. It was sweet, in the rain, romantic, everything that the movies played out a first kiss to be. Unfortunately, my first boyfriend was emotionally abusive and from the first week we dated there was never a week that we didn’t fight. His family was very religious and stressed no sex before marriage. Although my ex boyfriend was not a virgin and I was we actually never had sex, the year and a half I was with him. After a year and a half of making me cut off ties with all my friends, controlling my life, and telling me that I was “book smart but not street smart,” he broke up with me. I was heartbroken, felt like I lost what little control I had, and became incredibly depressed. We got back together a couple times and after the last time we broke up that was it. I couldn’t go back, the little hope and trust I held on to was gone forever. I had a really supportive group of friends who helped me through the break up and were helpful in supporting me in not getting back together with him. It was a summer of fires, beaches, and being there for one another. In that group of friends was a set of twins A and B and they were about to be heading off to their freshman year in college. In that set of twins was a twin I was really into, all through high school, Twin B.

My senior year of high school comes. My ex boyfriend and I chat here and there and he wants to get back together (maybe it was power thing, we were AWFUL together). I kept saying no, that I needed some time, that I needed to figure it out aka stalling not getting back together. I thought that with time he would change his ways and we could get back together, but I was 17 and naive. So I decide to go visit Twin B at the college in October. My dad drove and dropped me off to my fate (little did he know). So I get into Twin B’s dorm room, drop off my stuff, and go to the dining hall with him. My ex-boyfriend calls me and it’s hard for me to hear him so I ask if I can call him back and he FLIPS. I hang up the phone and he started texting me how he only needed to talk to me for 5 minutes, why couldn’t I give him the light of day, why wasn’t I answering? I see where he was coming from, I was visiting a guy in college but my ex and I weren’t together and I owed him nothing. If he reacted differently maybe I would of stayed a virgin later into my life, hell maybe I would’ve never had sex and this blog wouldn’t exist.

So I turned my phone off and get back to the reason why I was there, to spend time with Twin B. Twin B and I went to a house party had a beer, went to the frat quad and we didn’t go in anywhere because I looked so young with braces and all (I was a hottie at 17. Glasses and braces. Oh Baby. It’s a miracle I lost my virginity). So we just went back to his dorm room. We decided to watch a movie aka the universal sign for lets make out and fool around. Twin B was also only the second person I had ever kissed. At the ripe age of 17. We don’t do anything more because his roommate was in the room, sorry roommate, and then we just go to bed. The following morning, when his roommate woke up to go shower and study, we started fooling around again. After a while I was like you know what, get a condom, lets do this. So, Twin B did. He put the condom on (yay protection and not yet being on birth control!) and put his penis in and we had sex. For some reason I always imagined that my body would feel different, or that something would happen, but nothing did. We talked about it afterwards and I didn’t feel any different, I didn’t feel like I was initiated into the world of the sexually active. I just felt like me except now I had to strip this label off if anyone asked me. We got breakfast, I hung out with one of my friends who also went to the same college, and then my dad picked me up later that day. It was like any other day.


We’re going to stay 18 forever

I sometimes wonder if my blog ever gets big if there’s artists are going to come back and sue me for using their song titles/ lyrics for titles. Honestly, I’m just not that creative with titles. But every guy I guess inspires some lyric that goes with them. Mainly the stories I haven’t written is because I haven’t thought of a clever enough title yet. Kudos to Brand New for this one.

Done with my rambling. This is to reflecting back to being 18 and naive and finding comfort years later.

Freshman year of college is arguably the best year of your college career. You’re fresh out of high school with new potential to meet new people with similar interests. You don’t know anything so you can arguably get away with almost anything. At the end of the night you end up back in your hall, cuddling with your friends, and it’s socially acceptable to keep your door open always to invite people to just come in and get to know you. A simpler time.

How does freshman year and this title go together? Well I was really into punk music going in from high school to freshman year. I listened almost exclusively to Brand New, Set Your Goals, Four Years Strong (you know those soft intro into punk bands bands), and would go to shows with my friends. One of my friends was in an art class with this one guy, lets call him Tim, who she told me a lot about. It was so long ago that maybe this friend can weigh in on how I actually met Tim but I think it was just that we happened to hang out in the same place and just got to talking.

Long story short, second semester freshman year rolls around there was an incident on our campus. Everything that we had planned got canceled and it ended up that a small group of us got together and Tim was there and we got to know one another and talked about whatever…. I honestly don’t even really remember how everything happened but he got my number and then one night he texted me late at night to come over to his fraternity. Years later I would find out, our mutual friend was the one that told him to just go for it, before I even knew said mutual friend. And guess what it worked, I came over. We did a quick hi as I came through the door and it quickly lead to a kiss. As we tried to go to his room it was occupied by his roommate and some girl he was seeing. So instead we had to find a different place which turned out to be the hot tub that they had. Again, a hot tub in a fraternity house. So romantic and so sanitary. (A girl in my biology lab later compared the bacteria in the hot tub against the dirty river next to our campus… Sooo sexy).

Anyways, we finished and I slept over. I left pretty early in the morning expecting never to talk to him again. But we did. I messaged him about a show and soon we started hanging out, going to some punk shows, me sleeping over and him sleeping over my place. During this time my bitch of a roommate, who by the way had her boyfriend sleep over every night, got upset with me when Tim came over after a barparty one night and slept over. Granted I should have told her before hand but she came in at 3am, freaked out, took her bedding off after making a commotion and proceeded to sit outside the room, sulk, and not talk to me even after I engaged with her because he slept over once since I started seeing him. Needless to say I ended up moving out of the room and up a few floors.

So things are great with Tim but of course we never have the exclusive talk. Because why have the exclusive talk? Ignorance is bliss as some might say. I was terrible and led guys on with no intention of sleeping with them because at the end of the day(night) I wanted to see Tim. Then it finally happened. Around spring break, almost a month and a half of us seeing one another Tim became distant. He wasn’t as responsive, didn’t seem to want to talk, and when I came back and slept over I felt so uncomfortable and wanted to leave the whole night because he clearly didn’t want me there. In hindsight, I wish I did. So finally we talk and he breaks the news, he started hooking up with someone else and was going to see her. I mean, as he said it, we weren’t exclusive. Even though I wanted to talk more about it and get closure he kept avoiding me and making excuses, even though I still hung out at his fraternity house. And then he went abroad.

I was so upset about it for so long. I remember I messaged him while he was abroad and it was just so strange. Like he felt annoyed that I wanted to talk, and he might have been.  I sure have felt that way about people, I just decided to take it personally back then. One thing that helped me during the semester he was gone, now my sophomore year, was this girls art project. She created a black box into which you can go into and read a letter to a person that you wanted to. I wrote him a letter and recorded it in that box. It was the release that I needed. After he came back abroad I still found it difficult to see him but faked it because I wanted to still be friends with him. He acted so cheery and happy like nothing happened, like we never happened, like I got the closure that I wanted, and I faked it along. He started dating a girl long term and I started seeing other people and always wondered what if.

Four years later, it seems like a common trend, more posts about that later, he comes back into my life. He visited the area a lot for work so we would randomly run into each other in the halls of campus. One time I knew he was in town was because of Tinder. I always got a little upset because he said he wouldn’t message me when he was in town and the only ways I knew he was around was when I literally randomly ran into him during the time he was visiting. Every time. Then after going to an event on diversity and race he invited me to go out to the bar for a friend’s birthday. I was exhausted but I went for a little bit, accidentally got drunk, had to stay and win the dance off, and then as I left he kissed me good bye. Four years later he kissed me goodbye. I was so confused. Why now?

We continued this for a couple months, only kissing nothing more. He would come over and we would have long talks with my roommate and then he would leave. Months after that incident he was back in town and I thought I loved someone and told him how I met someone (spoiler alert : jokes, I was not in love, only fooled into thinking it, drugs man. Crazy things). He kept asking me about it and finally one time when he was visiting and I was crying into his arms, no questions asked, I told him about the stress of grad school and the stress of the guy I ended things with. Again, he was there to comfort me which I appreciated. He came back to visit again and after we got to go into the hot tub at 1am after we talked the desk clerk to let us in he kissed me. But this time I decided to go into his room. And he said something that stuck out, “How nice it is to be with someone familiar”. I was a little offended. I thought I was glad I can be some sort of comfort but to use me as a comfort felt insulting. I left and drove back home because I had class and work and didn’t feel the need to stay and sleep.

That night gave me the closure that I needed. So many years later and it was the instance that made me think, why did I care so much about this in the first place? Closure is an interesting feeling, that all the sudden you come to peace with everything you were upset with before. It all connects and makes sense you can close it and put it away. So although I was naive in my young age, hell still naive at my old age of 24, at least I can come to peace with it. I still think fondly back to those times freshman year and think, “We’re going to stay 18 forever.”

Dr. Spaceman

Dear readers, I’ve been watching a lot of 30 Rock, as in I finished it for the second time this weekend. This post is both inspired by Dr. Spaceman and my gynecologist. Enjoy.

I have been getting pap smears and going to the gynecologist since I was 17 yeas old, aka when I started having sex. Now around my senior year in college it turned out that I kept getting abnormal paps and needed to see a gynecologist outside of the University provided services. This is where I was recommended to Dr. Spaceman, all credit to this joke goes to 30 Rock and Tina Fey.  Well the first visit was fine. I had a Colposcopy done and Dr. Spaceman decides to tell me all about his daughter, who if I remember correctly is about 5-6 years older than I am. While he is inserting things into my vagina he’s just talking about her. I know it’s to make me feel comfortable but I really don’t want to hear about your daughter as you are about to look at my cervix. After the procedure I left the office shook up, called my mom, and cried. It wasn’t from anything the doctor said/did but the fact that hey we’re checking to make sure you don’t have cervical cancer.

After that initial visit, the tests came back negative and I had to wait a year and get another pap, normal procedure. Well this time I come in, a year later, waiting in my paper gown and Dr. Spaceman comes in. First he does the normal breast exam, sees my tattoo and decides to read it. Which is fine. I’ve had female healthcare professionals do the same exact thing. Then when he starts to do the pelvic exam, which if readers you don’t know, a doctor inserts two fingers into your vaginal opening and presses down to check your ovaries and uterus (again someone correct me if I’m wrong with terminology and what they are actually checking for. Would not want to spread false information). As he is about to do this, and he knows I’m Russian, Dr. Spaceman asks me, “What do you think about the Crimea situation?” You are about to put your fingers into my vagina and you think that the conversation to have to put me at ease it my political thoughts about Crimea?  I don’t remember anything about the exam except for having to talk to my gynecologist about what I think about Putin’s decision to annex Crimea. Anyways, the pap came back fine.

I like to get myself tested for STDs pretty frequently. So while I was taking a break from Dr. Spaceman and our yearly meet ups I decided to go to a free clinic, because even with insurance, paying for healthcare services is a bank robbery. So I go, see if I qualify for a study (because in the name of research), and wait for the nurses to come in. The first nurse turned out to be so empowering when we talked about my sexual health. She said and quote “Have as much sex as you want with whoever you want but always make sure to be safe since it’s your body and you should respect it.” I practically cried in the office.

My next nurse turned out to be a Ukrainian nurse practitioner and we had my appointment in a mixture of Russian and English. I told her about the research I do and she seemed very impressed. So after talking about my sex life, her giving me another bag on condoms on top of the bag of condoms I got when I came in she told me I could be on my way and she’ll call if anything comes up. Well halfway on my drive back to work I get a phone call where the nurse practitioner asks me to come back. I immediately start freaking out. So I come back in and she just told me that she felt something odd during my pelvic exam and wanted to get a second opinion. I change back into the paper gown, put my legs up in the stir-ups, and wait for the second nurse practitioner to come in. My legs were in the stir-ups, no underwear, ready to be examined, and my initial nurse practitioner turns to the other nurse practitioner and tells her about how I work in research and they both ask me to elaborate on it… I talked to them for a good 10 minutes about the research I do, legs up, vagina out. Again, they must be so used to this that talking about something novel was more interesting than looking at another person to screen them for STDs but I was shocked. I needed to get back to work and now very much so exposed I had to talk about the type of work I did. Everything turned out to be okay, my uterus is just shifted to the left a little bit.

Lets go back to Dr. Spaceman. After the last pap smear it was again my third year in to go see Dr. Spaceman for my yearly pap and check up. The appointment went fine. I brought up that I wanted to get an IUD since now instead of my birth control being free, my new insurance made me have a $10 co-pay with it. Robbery. I have been fine with the pill for so many years now, except when I had to switch around for new pills and went crazy, that paying $10 was the breaking point. Again, he mentioned his now 28 year old daughter that also has an IUD. Great. My blood tests came back negative except I was deficient in Vitamin D. I literally have to take prescription strength vitamin D. Looking for requests to workshop a pick up line involving vitamin D and the D… “Guess what vitamin I’m deficient in? ;)” #NeedTheD

So the exam went fine but something came up and we had to hold off on the IUD procedure. When Dr. Spaceman and I talked on the phone one of the first questions he asked me was “How do you meet the guys that you meet?” Okay, understandable that you want more information to understand my diagnosis but again so odd. So a month later when I went in for a repeat procedure he brought this up again. More specifically, he brought up Tinder. My doctor is now interested in my dating app use. I told him that the only people I sleep with are people I met in college or people my friends have introduced me to, and while I did have a Tinder, for less than a year, I don’t use dating apps anymore due to wayyyyyyyyy too many bad experiences. Maybe I should have given him the URL to this blog.

I guess while all of these things are incredibly routine for doctors and health care professionals it’s the little things that seem out of the ordinary when I go on these visits. It’s always nice to talk about something that is outside of what you do day in and day out, I do get to come out of these visits with some stories to tell me friends and get a laugh out of people. Personally, I wanted to laugh at the situation while I was in it. But that would be unprofessional.

Is it worth it, let me work it.

Maybe it was my wallet being stolen, maybe it was this tweet that should be funny but actually got me really upset [], maybe it’s the episode of Master of None that talked about feminism but today I got to thinking about worth. What is a woman worth? What is a woman’s opinion worth? Why is it that worth is measured only in gain and money? Can my worth be measured in compassion, expression, love. The simple things. Why do I have to impress society while society beats me down into the ground.

Readers, it’s 2:11am. I haven’t been able to sleep. I feel very sad and I feel a lack of worth. Maybe it’s because an old fling and I were familiar again, maybe it’s my opinion and input not mattering, maybe it’s the fact that I am lamenting over 7+ years of being single. What is my worth? Is it outside of love? I have had this conversation so many times that you don’t need to be good at everything. Maybe the things I am good at fall outside of love. And that’s okay. I think this post is to say to myself, I know you have loved deeply and many, but it’s okay. There are things that give you worth that isn’t love, that isn’t sex, that isn’t gender. It’s okay to separate myself from that to move my life towards being human, to trying to understand how to be selfless. The things I should be good at are outside of being in a loving caring relationship. They’re not for everyone. You don’t get everything you want.

I hear all the time that it’ll work out; I need to look for someone nicer, outside a certain group, somewhere else. And it all ends up being the same. We have some drinks, we have some laughs, we have some deep meaningful conversations (or sex), and then it fades, it ends, the timing isn’t right, we weren’t exclusive, it’s casual, you’re cool but, you’re chill but, you’re fucking insane but, I think you get my point. I’ve come to a generalization that all the guys I turn out to be interested in are terrible, don’t know what they’re looking for, or looking for something better. I have had too many guys make me feel like I wasn’t the better, I wasn’t the worthwhile one. I’m sure a lot of people can empathize with me here too (guys as well, this isn’t supposed to be a man hating post). It’s finding a way to see your worth that is outside the perception of others. Your worth is not made by others. I still struggle with accepting that and moving forward. It’s not an easy thing to do.

This blog post may make no sense, might not be worthwhile to read, doesn’t have a fun quirky story about some guy I slept with but it’s the selfish thing I needed in order to get some sleep and clear my thoughts. Goodnight readers, thanks for taking the time to read this.

PS Credit to Missy Elliot for the title from the song “Work it”. Very clearly the song and my blog post go hand in hand.

Bloody Mary

Dear readers,

It is 3:15am, I can’t sleep and I don’t have the motivation to study for an exam I have on Friday. As I was in bed trying to convince my body to go to bed, I realized it was all in vain and wasted effort and I should crawl here to tire myself out to the point where I go to bed. I thought how I haven’t posted anything on here for a while so in the spirit of Halloween, let me post a gory tale of my hook up past. Disclaimer; It will get graphic and there will be blood. Read on if you dare.

My sophomore year of college was an interesting time. I met a guy who I was really into and would always talk about him to my friends, since many were friends with him, in order to pass on that I was interested in him. I thought he was charming, into good music, really funny. Why wouldn’t I be attracted to a person like that. Well one night all of my dreams came true! After weeks of saying how into him I was (to everyone except him), I finally got a chance to be with him. I was hanging out with him and a whole bunch of our friends. We were watching videos, drinking, etc etc. Then as our friends were enthralled with a video, he turned and kissed me! Then he said the only 7 words I wanted to hear “Want to go back to my room?” (paraphrased my friends, my memory is not what she used to be). So we slyly leave the room (JK we just blatantly walked out, but hey the video was so interesting I’m sure they didn’t see us leave) and went into his room.

We start hooking up, my (wet) dreams coming true, when I still don’t know to this day what happened. It was definitely very wet, and I don’t know if he had used his fingers too hard but I felt something was very, very wrong. We both looked down at one point and his stomach was covered in blood. Readers, so much blood. I think we both had a freak out. It must of been some sick joke my body decided to play on me. I was MORTIFIED. He told me that it was perfectly fine, people get their period, except haha jokes, didn’t have my period. What was I to do. If there was a God and if he was gentle he would have transported me that second to a far, far, very far away place. (Except that I sin excessively so maybe it was some sort of punishment). We did the only possible thing that we could in that situation, we went to go shower the blood off.

Obviously in the shower we made out a little bit but he couldn’t really get hard, or in bed after which he was said was due to the incident… and I don’t blame him. I literally bled on him. I am amazed he kept talking to me afterwards. I am amazed he let me sleep over. What a kind gentle soul. I still think back to that moment and want to curl up in a ball and die. But hey that’s life. We hooked up a couple times again after that (blood free!!) and then he started dating someone and I was devastated.

Happy Halloween Readers! Have a safe, gore free holiday!

No One Listens to Techno pt 1

This guy has been sitting in my drafts for about 10 months… I decided to finally finish part one and post it. Part two will come in another 10 months, or when I get heartbroken again and consequently feel really inspired to write, whichever comes first.

While no one listens to techno, I sadly love techno ie electro. I listen to it all the time in the car, while I study, while I do work. It calms me, relaxes me, motivates me, and helps me concentrate. I’ll listen to an hour long mix 3-8 times in a day if I really fall in love with it. I love electro so much that when my friend posted a comment on a remix of a song and asked me to join him for a festival, I skipped my third day of graduate classes to drive through the night in order to go to a music festival for the weekend. I’ve had plenty of wild weekends but I think back to this one a fair amount. I feel in love twice, one night right after the other with two different guys. And by fall in love I mean I was riding the induced love that club substances make you feel. Sorry Mom. Side note: Mom if you are reading this, please stop right here.

There are times where I like to do spontaneous things; take a road trip, go out when I still have so much work to do, go on a random date because I’m bored and haven’t met anyone new in a while. Well one of my close friends, Allen, told me about a festival is New York City, Electric Zoo. For those of you who don’t know it’s an Electric Dance Music (EDM) festival and one of my more favorite (or rather a dj that I actually know) Don Diablo was playing. Literally a week before this festival I decided to go. I got tickets from a friend of a friend of a friend and Allen was actually going to drive up to my town in order to pick up some “friends.” I told my dad that my friend was driving up and we were going to drive down together, in the same day. Allen drove 5 hours up for us to drive the 5 hours down. My dad’s friend immediately asked (cause you know we’re Russian) if he was my boyfriend. After I said that no he wasn’t a boyfriend, just a friend, she turns to me and says “too bad, he should be your boyfriend.”

Anyways, we made the plans where Allen would pick up some friends and we would leave in the morning to him picking up friends, me getting drunk at a bar, and us leaving at 1am to drive 4 hours to get to his house, the halfway point to the festival. We get to his house at 6am and pass out until 9am. Literally, so exhausted we went straight to bed. 9am rolls around and we are trying to catch the 10am bus. I get up shower, put on makeup, whatever and then Allen wakes up, takes his dear sweet time and we miss the first train in his hometown, can’t find parking at the second train station and miss that train, only to drive into the city and park up by Columbia. Since that time, that’s where Allen always parks his car when he comes into the city and takes the 1 train down.

So we get to our other friends apartment in Times Square and they leave for the festival. I stay the first day programming and doing a homework assignment because hey I’m still a grad student and have things I need to get done… Ie, I worked for a bit and took a nap. I ventured out finally and met the girl and got my pass for the next day, got dinner with a friend, came back, and took another nap. I started to get ready for the night because hey it’s 8pm and I was ready to go to an after party. So they get back, Allen met a girl at the festival and me, Allen, and his new found love (Lana) head out to a club to see 3lau. So I take a little something something for a good night and we leave. About an hour in the lights look amazing, the music is amazing, the sweaty disgusting gross guys are amazing. Allen and Lana are dancing, I’m having a great time by myself, because at this point in my life I’ve figured out how to third wheel all my happy in a relationship friends and enjoy my own company. I dance next to some guy, give a big smile to another, and then it happens, some guy starts dancing behind me. If it had been earlier in the night I would have pushed them away and moved deeper in the crowd, like I had with the other 2 or 3 guys that tried dancing with me. Most guys that come up and try to dance with you are creepy as fuck, grope you, or honestly are just bad dancers and kill the whole vibe. But not this guys. But again. Maybe it was that substance induced empathy that made me take a second and give him a chance instead of walking away.

Anyways, the new found guy, lets call him John, is dancing with me. I didn’t see his face but as the song ended I started walking away and he just spun me around. He introduced himself to me all suave and invited me up to the VIP section that he had with his friends. My brain literally thought, “No don’t do this, what a stupid idea, why would you do that? Don’t go somewhere with a stranger”, while my body was like “yeah why not? Good idea.” We go up and he pours me a drink and I remember him tasting it in front of me to show me it wasn’t roofied. A+ guy. I take a sip, realize I really don’t want the drink, and give it back to him. We’re chatting and I can’t really talk cause the lights and music are so overwhelming. We’re dancing, walking around, chatting, and then I realize Allen and Lana have been gone a while. So I call them and Allen and her are outside and they can’t get back in. John to the rescue gets them inside, and up to the VIP section after 45 minutes of talking to whoever he needed to talk to. Anything to get laid, amiright? So we get upstairs, are all dancing, drinking and finally 5am rolls around and I am finally ready to leave. John and I take a cab back to his place and I explicitly remember asking him to give his address to Allen so that they knew where I was going. Honestly, this day in age you can never be too safe.

We get back to his place on the upper east side, and head up to his apartment. He’s visiting from Georgia and his parents have a place in the city. He introduced me to his friends who had just played (and lost) in the US Open that day and I met Tim Howard, cause he was casually hanging out there. Tim Howard, the US goal keeper, saw me come back to this guys apartment to sleep with him. I shook his hand and John had to have a conversation with him to tell him that we were sleeping in that room. I’m sure I left a great impression. We hooked up and then ended up going up out onto the roof and talked as we watched the sunrise. We talked about how he’s now in business but he had always wanted to study physics and his parents killed that dream. I talked to him about grad school and my dreams and we fell asleep out there on the roof with the sun beaming on us. Finally after a couple of hours of sleeping outside we went back to his room and fell asleep there. 10am rolls around and I roll out, tell him I have to leave, and take the subway in a black halter dress and heels, stride of pride in all of it’s glory. I get back to my friends apartment and recap my night and pass out.

I never got his number, never talked to him again, never tried to add him on social media, thought about him here and there, and questioned my decisions. The only thing I think back to that night is how Tim Howard must have viewed me and questioned my morals and decisions. But we can’t win them all.

I Know You’re Tired of Loving with Nobody to Love.

Shout out to the great Kanye for the title. The only song I have listened by him, and will probably listen by him (JK I listened through the Yeezus album). Lately I’ve been thinking about this: What does it mean to be in love (from a person who claims to be in love with everyone), does love last forever, how enduring is it, and is it really love? I guess this post is being written for the long awaited blog post reader who I have thought I’ve loved for a while, but can never quite tell.

It started my Junior year of college. We’ll call him Scott. There’s nothing special in the first times we met. I don’t even remember when we met. I just remember making comments how he always had hickeys on his neck from his now ex girlfriend. We saw each other around a lot mostly because we had the same group of friends, but never really talked. He performed in our schools Male Beauty Pageant in my friend’s talent act, in which they dropped him during a flip. But hey, that happens. So we never really saw each other, so how did any of this even come about?

Well that year I was supposed to be abroad and wasn’t so I commuted from home. I was staying with my friends a lot in their house. Along with a lot of other things that made me depressed that semester, I was very invested in another guy and found out that he had slept with me when he was blackout. I felt incredibly insecure, upset, and was not in a good place. In the three weeks after that incident I was driving from dinner with my friend who lived in the same house and he asked me how I was doing and I broke down crying, letting him know what had happened and how I was feeling about relationships, that year, and everything that was going on (Short story: Junior year was not a good year).  But that’s alright because my sister (Recently out of a relationship) and I were going to Puerto Rico for spring break with some of my fraternity friends! Obviously the best thing that could happen to two girls (Plus our other friend so three girls): going on spring break with 20+ guys. My break down to my friend happened days before leaving so I was very ready for vacation and sun.

Well we got there and my sister went off with my friends while I stayed in the hotel room to sleep (We woke up at 6am, missed out first flight, and spent the rest of the time in the sun, my body was tired and I was old (being 20 is hard)). So I was boring the first day and stayed in while everyone went out to the bars. But that’s alright because the next night, while everyone was sleeping from being hungover from the beach, and I was very awake, I looked at our group thread and saw that Scott and our other friend, Chase were in their room just talking and drinking. So I decided to go over and hang out. Chase told us about his summer job selling expensive knife sets and honestly, I wanted to buy a knife set from him. He was that convincing on why I needed them. Scott and I laughed and enjoyed Chase’s stories. Then my sister and our other friend, Gavin, came into the room and we all left to go out. I just remember at one point right before we left, Scott and I sat next to each other on the bed and for some reason I felt a spark. Weird how that happens, right?

Well we go to the bar, and there’s a lot of guys kissing one another, in the best fraternal brotherly love way! So I’m in a three way hug with Frat Friend #1 and Scott, and as they kiss, Scott leans down and gives me a kiss. For show or because he wanted to, we’ll never know? Unless he weighs in, he does read this blog btw. So back to socializing, drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, and it’s getting late. So our original crew tries to find a cab back and we get back to the hotel. My sister wanders off to go do her single girl thing and Scott and I decide to go “hang out” by the pool. (Mom, if you read this blog, I’m sorry) So we start hooking up by the pool and very quickly notice that there’s a person doing rounds. My room not being an option since there was sun burned people sleeping in it and my sister had taken Scott’s room for her own hanging out needs, we had to go find a more secluded place outside but hidden away from everyone. This hidden away place is 10 feet from the pool by the wall of the hotel. I find the most romantic situations don’t I? So we hook up, go over to the hot tub and chat and get to know one another, and then the rest of our friends and my sister come out. I wandered back with my sister to our hotel room and fell asleep.

The next morning Gavin, my sister, other friends, and I head out for some breakfast (We literally went to the same place all vacation) Gavin and I at one point got lost trying to find the restaurant, mostly cause we took a left when we should’ve taken a right but that’s another story. So we get to breakfast and a second crew shows up, with Scott in it, and Scott’s eye is completely red. Why? Because he accidentally put in the wrong contact solution that has Hydrogen peroxide (?Could someone clarify these details) in it and burned his eye. My dear Scott wants to be a doctor, but everyone makes mistakes when someone explicitly tells you not to use their contact solution. So he shows up to breakfast with a burning red eye. And I laughed. Because there’s not much else to say in that situation. We left breakfast to go to the beach and day drink, leaving Scott’s red eye and crew behind.

So we continued seeing each other for the rest of vacation. There was that time that I went to go shower before going out to dinner and mid-shower I heard a knock on my door and it was Scott. Shampoo in my hair and a towel over my body I was taken aback that he was here in my room with me looking the way that I did. I quickly let him in and retreated to the shower mortified that he had seen me out of my element. (What element?!). So eventually I got out, changed, and started to do my hair while chatting with him. To make this story a little less  confusing I should backtrack. Before we went on vacation Gavin (Gavin, my sister, me, and Gavin’s little were all sharing a room) told me that if I hooked up in the room I would have to pay for all of it. Well awkward cause as Scott and I started hooking up someone walked in, saw feet, and left. It was over. I would be out hundreds of dollars. Side note I wasn’t, I just had to switch beds.

We spent the days talking, drinking, seeing our friends and the nights lying on the beach, walking around various neighboring hotel pools, and trying to catch up with the rest of the crew after we had enough alone time.

Readers, I should leave this blog post here. To preserve that memory, to not ruin the image of Scott. To only remember the warm sun, salty ocean crashing into us after we kissed, his flirtatious ways that I was naive and though we’re only for me… But this blog is about heartbreaks as well…

Fast forward 2 days after we get back from vacation. It’s St Patrick’s day, I’ve been talking to some other guy as well during spring break, did I mention I suck as a person, and I see him in Starbucks. I get upset because he was supposed to text me when we were back. I always look back and wonder, if he actually texted me would things have worked out differently between Scott and me. What if I had texted him since it shouldn’t be all on him? So I was talking to my best friend and told her about Scott and was like you know things went well between us, I should just text him. And I did. And because it was at Patrick’s day I went over to see him and drink and hang out. From what I remember we hooked up but that was a long time ago.

A week later there was a huge party in the fraternity I hung out with. So I brought my sister and went with my best friend. It was fun until I saw Scott talking to another girl and I had an internal freak out. I realized that I kept wanting to see him outside of just hooking up, I was scared of it just ending, I didn’t want it to end so soon. So I went upstairs and cried. One of my friends asked me about it and I spilled out everything to him only to run into Scott moments later, get locked in a room because security was walking through, and learned Scott took recreational drugs. So there I was crying into his arms about my insecurities while he told me everything about his life. We were a mess. My sister had gone off somewhere, I stayed up til 4am in the house only to end up sleeping in Scott’s bed while Scott slept on the floor and his friend from home slept in his roommates bed. I repeat, we were a mess.

After this we kept slowly seeing more and more of one another. I went to go study with him, we would go get ice cream and chipotle burritos, he even took me to Moes for the first time in my life. So romantic I know, but I remember thinking it was sweet. Here’s this first guy I’ve cared about, for the first time in a long time, and wanted to spend time outside of just sleeping with him once, rolling out of bed the next day, and only saying hi when we run into each other. I actually wanted to know about him. He fascinated me. He put up a front but was a lover of art and art history, anime, neuroscience.

Before I start getting into the bitter sweet stuff I should let you know for context that Scott had recently gotten out of a relationship, had mainly been in long term relationships, had family issues arise, and was a typical sophomore questioning his worth in academics and worrying about what he can do in the future. We’ve all been there.

Again, before we get to the bittersweet stuff, I just want to remember a couple more sweet memories. There was one time we were in our school stacks, “studying” til 3am which was actually studying with a hint of showing past pictures on our Facebook , telling stories from our families, and hooking up. I still think to this day the person doing rounds either came right as we finished, or knew and waited to do rounds. I remember going to our friends band and him yelling out random stuff but looking down and kissing me, watching Drive where he fell asleep on me and I drove home after, watching half of Django Unchained and spending the night, having to get creative on where we hooked up because his roommate went to bed early, getting caught hooking up by student patrol and talking our way out of it then after staying up til 3am talking. There’s more good memories I’ll keep writing. We were even talking one time and I suggested he should stay the summer and he said he was most likely staying, and I was so excited.

But this isn’t a story that’s all lighthearted . There was a lot of bad within the good. For one, he told me at a bar party he was hooking up with other people and we talked about it and decided to be exclusive in the sense that we could make out with anyone, since he hadn’t slept with those people, but not sleep with other people. I at least kept up my half which I found out years later that he hadn’t.  There was another girl that was blatantly into him and he denied it every time I brought it up to him, he ended up taking her to formal using the excuse that she had asked him to her formal and couldn’t unask her cause he didn’t want to be that guy, but hey that’s fine to do to me. I wanted to take him to my date party but didn’t ask because he always complained about how much studying he had to do, only for him to go to another formal with another girl the following day. I cried a lot into Scott’s arms. To this day he has shirts stained with my mascara

I was stupid. My best friend and I went on a run and I told her everything and cried and realized I should end things. And I tried and said the words to Scott but then as we were sitting on the warm sunny quad at dusk I took it back in moments. I was stupid.

So the year ended, he went on a break with me, even though quote: there’s nothing to go on a break from since we weren’t dating. And we kept talking because I couldn’t let go.

When he came back we were both in an awkward place, I didn’t have a car and couldn’t move into my place yet so I was staying with my close friends, but Scott as well couldn’t move into his place so he was also staying with my close friends. I tried to be avoidant and sleep upstairs, but one night I decided to sleep downstairs with him in his bed and we turned back into the rut he was trying to get out of.

So we kept seeing each other, he took me out for dinner for my birthday and out for drinks with my friends when I turned 21. He bought me a shot and complained about the price of it later. He helped me pack up my room and move into my new house. We fought about various things that are too personal to put here.

After a party we had one night, my roommate ended up sleeping in my bed and we went back to his place. I packed up my glasses and retainer and was giddy and maybe it was the too many drinks but after we brushed our teeth and I put my retainer in he just looked down at me and said this is too datey. And I cried. And wanted to leave. But he felt bad and asked me to sleep over and held me all night and I didn’t sleep, just wanted to leave and be anywhere else.

So it ended. And I started seeing other people, his friends, my friends. Then on July 4th he had a party and the girl that was blatantly into him was there. We got to talking and I told him I started hooking up with other people and he got upset and said he hadn’t hooked up with anyone. 2 hours later of fighting and me taking him away from that girl and he admitted that he slept with her. I had a panic attack and cried and we both went our separate ways.

Later in the summer I saw him very obviously leave with another girl and I felt like he was rubbing it in my face. I may have slept with a lot of people but I didn’t parade it around. So I texted him something mean and ignored him for the next 3 months, cried about it to one of my friends, and hooked up with someone. Readers I was a mess after junior year. Hell I still am.

He started dating the girl he left with that night. I’m sure they had their rough patches getting to the point of dating, but they started dating. And it killed me because our whole relationship he told me how he didn’t want to be in a relationship because he wanted to be his own person. So we talked in October for the first time, and it was calm except when I got mad about him sleeping with that girl but making me feel bad about myself for sleeping with other people. And I stopped ignoring him, and we would snapchat here and there and talk.

And this went on for two years. After I got back from Russia he was one of the first people I texted, because i ran into a mutual friend and he told me to text Scott about the details of watching a soccer game. Surprise, surprise he told me the details but never told me when they were leaving. We chatted and that was that.

A year out of college we would talk at the bars if we saw each other and text and snapchat and I was always okay with it because I knew he had a girlfriend and he loved her. The part that got hard was recently when they broke up. I had heard about it through the grapevine. And I ignored it, knowing I would get sucked back into the pain and hurt I felt so many years ago. I wanted nothing more than to hang out and see him but I kept myself occupied with work and friends and other people I was seeing. But he kept snapchatting me, asking me to come out but I would go to sleep instead. We even talked to the point knowing we would see each other and he walked by me, without acknowledgment. He said it was the look in my face, that I didn’t want to see him and it was probably true. I wasn’t upset when he walked by me and didn’t say anything to me. I knew that’s who he was. Hiding behind his phone, because the only time we ever discussed our problems was when he was drunk and the only time we would talk is through snapchat. Why would I think he would change 2 years later and actually invite me to see him and hang out outside of snapchat?

So we saw each other on graduation day and had a quick kiss before I left. Nothing special. The next day I was exhausted and at work but I went over to his place to nap and help him pack and move. Nothing happened. We just talked and I admitted that when I found out he would be in the same city for the next two years, I was disappointed because I just wanted space away from him. That every time I looked at him and thought if our timing and circumstances were different, if something could have actually happened and we could have been together. I told him I still really liked him, we hugged, and he drove to go home for the month.

We talked (snapchatted) a lot and then I heard that he got back together with his girlfriend. So I blocked him. Because I thought to myself, what are you doing? Why are you playing into something that’s not going to happen? And I knew I didn’t have the willpower to ignore him because I wasn’t angry enough, so I knew the only way i wouldn’t respond was to block him. And then he came to visit and we just said hi and didn’t talk, and then he came back for good and told me blackout how it’s complicated what was going on with him and his (ex) girlfriend. So I gave in an added him back. I ended up seeing him the next night with my friends and we continued talking and he told me about his life problems. Then we all stayed up til 5am. In that night he poked with spoon, almost burned my foot on the stove when I was trying to get a bowl, we did the lift from dirty dancing and failed, listened to levels, we talked about our futures and he told me how his job fell through. Then at 5am our friend drove me and my other friends home and I said goodbye and he watched the sun rise.

Then I went on vacation and  he went on an interview. I told him before I left that it would be nice to talk sober in person and he agreed. When we got back we didn’t talk but that Tuesday everyone was going to a bar close by because one of other friends who was abroad for a year was back. I drove us to the bar and put on Sunday Candy and as I sang he sang along too. At the bar I tried my hardest to avoid him and then I couldn’t any longer and we talked and I tried to lean in and kiss him and was rejected. And I felt like a fool and wanted to disappear and leave. So I drove everyone home (it was 1am by this point) but he asked for a ride home too. We dropped off the first group and then I put on Sunday Candy again and we drove singing at the top of our lungs and laughing and smiling and happy. Then I dropped him off and I cried. I cried because he was leaving the next day to move to a new city in which he found a new job. I cried because I felt like it was too short. I cried because I was thrown off guard. I cried because I knew that unless we all went out together that night, I wouldn’t of been able to say goodbye.

I drove home and sobbed, then texted him and came back and we talked until 3am. I told him how I felt about him, the situation, the past two years, the future, and got the closure I was looking for. He told me about his family, how he was going to try long distance, and I didn’t want to the night to end because I didn’t want to accept that this was the last time we would really talk but then I had to leave and go to bed and go to work. As I left, I told him that I would be visiting the city he was moving to in October to visit my other friends. We talked about how we would get burritos from Annas and catch up. But those are just words.