I Wanted You To Be My First aka Not So Helpful Information

Back when I was in high school, I was a virgin. Yes, we all were at one point. Imagine that. (Sometimes I wish I still was, then I wouldn't know what I was missing. But I digress... as usual.) Well, while in high school, there was a boy who wanted to have sex with me. Yes, one. One that I know about, at least. And one that dumped me because I wouldn't. (I was only 15!) And who then slept with another cheerleader on my very same squad the very next night. I remember that evening oh so vividly--- being at a party with a bunch of my friends and hearing that The Boy Who Wanted to Have Sex With Me was having sex with one of my squad members in a parked car down the street and even worse, walking down the street with a friend to see the parked car with steamed up windows. Yes, that moment broke my heart. Not only was I dumped, but dumped for a not so nice girl who rubbed her pom poms in my face. Well, not really. We didn't have pom poms. Only song leaders did. But you get the idea.

Well, the girl he dumped me for was alternately mean and competitive with me ever since elementary school. She was the one who made fun of my clothes when we were doing the whole food stamp thing back in the the fifth grade. And she was delighted to win The Boy Who Wanted to Have Sex With Me. I had pretty much forgotten about the whole thing, to be honest. I mean, come on, I have new rejections to keep me occupied. And I don't really remember being particularly sad that I didn't lose my virginity to him. I could have done without the stomping on my heart, though. So over the weekend, at this high school reunion-ish get-together which is some 23 years after he lost his virginity to this other cheerleader, he told me how much he really liked me and how he had wanted me to be his first. Well, okay. Is it just me or was dumping me and having sex with someone else a funny way of showing it? Not to mention, what am I supposed to do with that information now-- 23 years later? And what am I supposed to say... uh, thanks? I'm not sure why he felt it necessary to tell me. The whole thing felt a little odd. Along with the added aka too much information that he wasn't the other girl's first and just how he knew. Still, I did appreciate the two dirty martinis he bought me. Although one probably would have been enough. But like I'm going to turn down a dirty martini? I was surrounded by married folks, for God's sakes. I needed ten with how it made me feel. (Including him. He has three kids and a wife.)

So this runner up thing? This almost being the one, but not being the one? Well, it's not so new to me. Sure, there's always a reason. But knowing it doesn't mean it always makes you feel any better. No, I think being The One or finding the One is the only thing that can do that. He was only 16. So it's not like I blame him. But a little waiting period might have been nice. Or maybe instead just hearing those words from a single man who wanted to be with me now.