WARNING/Disclaimer: I’m going to be discussing something of an adult nature. I am whipping this out as it comes to mind and I have thoughts that are raw and uncensored – I may or may not use vulgarity. Oh, and it may have tons of grammatical and spelling errors too (Oh, the horror!?!?!). This post is intended for mature audiences (i.e. ages 21+). Also, names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.
It took 3 days.
Three whole days.
I slept with Michelle three days after meeting her. Although, at the time, I thought I was that much of a stud. I thought my sexual prowess was just that damned good to get this pretty red head that I just met to have sex with me. We did it at her place. We saw each other each night after our first date, and things seem to come at us pretty fast. Years later, when Michelle and I have discussed our getting together she has said that she knew she loved me three days into the “relationship”. Admittedly, I didn’t have a clue what love was. I thought I was in love at the time, but also thought it was too early to express it. But I did…
A mistake? Yes, in hindsight, I think I was 100% wrong for rushing into our relationship. Here I was, maybe 6 months out of my first major relationship, moved to a new town where I knew absolutely no one, young with hopes. I found it easy to fall in love here. Michelle was also in a spot in her life where she wanted a good relationship. The idea of love, the idea of being in a relationship was enticing and I absolutely, 100% lacked, any maturity in discerning what it was that I wanted in a relationship. I had somewhat traditional values and had an idea that doing for someone else and sacrificing were all that was required to be in love and have a solid relationship.
Hindsight is an interesting animal and I can look back now and think that there was so much wrong with Michelle and I getting together and neither of us really understood what we needed to know. I think I was not truly ready for the responsibility of marriage – rather, not that I wasn’t responsible, but that I didn’t want it yet. I just didn’t realize I didn’t want it at that time. I knew I felt like I was responsible, I certainly felt like I was capable of making a commitment, but I think I didn’t understand how to communicate my needs, nor how to inquire about Michell’s needs to see if I was willing to meet them.
And that’s really what a relationship is about, isn’t it? The idea of meeting each other’s needs? I think that’s where she and I were. We thought we could meet the other’s needs. But that’s sort of the fallacy of all young love, right? Assuming anyone can meet all of your needs, 100% of the time, is asking for an impossible expectation to be met. Looking back on my life, I can recognize that it was unfair of her to expect me to meet 100% of her needs, 100% of the time. Likewise, it’s selfish and self-serving of me to expect her to meet 100% of my needs, 100% of the time. We sort of swallowed each other up, didn’t we?
But, I remember kissing down her stomach, seeing the little red rose embroidered on her panties, and having her squeal as I removed them. As I kissed the edge of her vagina, lightly caressing her skin with my fingers, my thoughts were far from expectations, maturity, commitment. In that moment, as I smelled her, tasted her, loved her, I couldn’t think of anything other than making love with her…
…by morning, I just knew the sexual energy we had together was phenomenal and without thinking, I said, “I love you too.”