Page 54 of Choosing the right Man

“Okay,” I said. “I’m glad we did it.”

Silence greeted those words. The two of us lay there for a while longer. He clung a bit tighter as his hand began rubbing my back. We weren’t looking at each other when he spoke.

“Do you want me to... um... to try to make it feel good for you?”

He sounded nervous. His hardness bumped against my leg. He was ready to have sex again. I didn’t know a whole lot about sex and how it all worked, but I remember talking to friends who said when a guy came he was done for a long time and couldn’t do it again. I felt the ache in my insides and shook my head.

“I think we should wait. I still hurt,” I told him. It wasn’t a stinging pain anymore, but the area was tender. I was slightly embarrassed to have to admit this to him.

“Of course. I’m stupid,” he said, sounding remorseful.

“No, you’re wonderful,” I assured him.

We lay on our blanket for another hour, our hands caressing each other. After we dressed, he drove me home. When I used the bathroom, I realized how foolish we were. I found a mixture of blood and semen. We didn’t use protection.

Luckily, I didn’t get pregnant. And as we made love more and more we were smarter. That night connected us. There were times we were more intimate than at others, and it took nearly a year for me to learn my own body, to learn to ask for my own pleasure.

We were normal teenage lovers... well, I was a teenager, and he was twenty-three at that point. Our relationship wasn’t perfect. We had beautiful moments and horrible ones. We fought, broke up, told each other we never wanted to see one another again, then we’d run back to each other and make love with a frenzy. I was so young.

My high school graduation was a bittersweet moment. I knew by the end of my senior year he was the man I wanted to be with forever. Maybe it was because I was from a small town. Maybe I didn’t understand there was a whole other world out there.

I had no idea why, at the tender age of eighteen, I wanted to make a lifelong decision to stay with the same boy I’d been with for well over a year. I knew we had problems, the initial infatuation had faded, and there were a lot of things between us that didn’t make sense.

But he was mine, and I was his. Maybe he had some of the same doubts I had. The difference was, he was being more honest about those thoughts. He was older and had already experienced so much in his life, where I hadn’t experienced anything outside of my small town.

The summer I graduated, he left for an internship. We talked often on the phone, for hours in the evening — at first. The calls faded after a while, and I realized I was fine. I spent more time with friends and wondered if he was truly the one I wanted to spend my life with.

But when he came back, all of those feelings I’d once felt so deeply, immediately came back. We were together again as if we’d never been apart. Paul was such an important person in my life that I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.

He then proposed to me. He took me to the beach and had fake candles set out, since the wind would blow out real ones. He bought me roses and told me he didn’t want to be without me. I said yes. We then moved to Portland. Somehow, we neverplanned a wedding. I even stopped wearing the engagement ring. I’m not sure why. Maybe we got comfortable, and it just didn’t matter.

I guess it makes it so much easier for us to break up since we aren’t married. A part of me is sad about this. Another part of me is grateful. I don’t want to have multiple divorces in my life. Maybe we haven’t loved each other enough if we didn’t even bother to plan a wedding.

I wonder if we would’ve stayed together if we hadn’t begun having sex. For the longest time I did it because I knew it pleased him, not because it brought anything to me. I wonder if he would’ve wanted to be with me if I hadn’t had sex with him. That’s something I’ll never have an answer to.

I hate that something so beautiful turned into something we eventually took for granted. I hate that something I needed from him, something he always wanted with me, is now something he won’t give me.

I realize a relationship can’t last without sexual compatibility. It’s so important. It connects us in a way we can’t connect with another person. We have friendships, relationships, and lives outside of our partners. But sex with our lover is something we only give each other... or we’re only supposed to give to our partner. It bonds us. It unites us. When it’s taken away, it leaves us empty, as if we’ve somehow failed. It leaves the relationship vulnerable.

It leaves the door open for someone else to step through...

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chloe

More time passes, and I still love my job, but I’m also taking online classes that I really love. I’m working on my bachelor’s degree, and I’m seriously considering continuing my education and earning a master’s degree.

Heck, I might even become a lifelong student like Audrey. Maybe we can move closer to each other or, better yet, share a house. We could be single women and go to college... and then own a couple of dozen cats. Okay, that doesn’t sound so appealing. Maybe just one cat.

I approach the restaurant where I’m meeting her for lunch. I arrive first and see her walking up. I can immediately tell something’s wrong. It’s Saturday, so I don’t have to rush off. We can take our time. I have no other plans for the day and have plenty of time to be with my best friend.

“What’s the matter?” I ask, standing as she approaches.

“Go ahead and sit. I’m sorry I’m late. Let’s order food then we’ll talk.” Her voice sounds a bit too ominous for me. I don’t feel like sitting, but I do as she’s asked.

“Are you seriously going to make me wait?” I ask.

“Yes, because I’m processing things in my mind. Let me finish so I don’t say something foolish.”

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