#16 FIRST KISS, REVISITED
We had a wonderful date, enjoyable hookups, and then he told me I was “too hot to be this desperate” – ouch
First Kiss had gone off on his adventures out to the Wild West. He’d lived and travelled in California, Nevada, Arizona, and the like. He joined the Army at one point. He started a company and made a nest egg. Read the original post about him here.
Then, somehow, he came back into my life as he must have moved back to Georgia, even if temporarily. I’m not sure of the details exactly or how we ran into each other again, but he asked me out on a real, proper date. I was so excited.
I think I’d learned my lesson by this point and actually dressed up (#4, #11). I’m not sure if he picked me up or I met him at The Wooden Nickel Pub in Valdosta, Georgia which I am sure is the only time I went there.
On our date, I did my usual back then and drank about twelve gallons of ice water. I still drink two to three litres of water per day but England doesn’t use much in the way of ice and thanks to my time living in Germany, I now drink sparkling water or soda water almost exclusively.
In the States, the servers will just keep coming back and giving you endless refills and I kept drinking endlessly at which point the ice water in my body plus the cold air conditioner plus my nerves meant that I was full-on shivering on our date. Like shaking. Like a leaf, as they say. I could not stop shaking and First Kiss started to notice.
First Kiss was a gentleman, though, and tried to rub my arms warm and when that failed he gave me his jacket to wear (as it was around August 2010). He was sympathetic and laughed at the situation whilst trying to get me warm.
I’m sure I also did my usual in ordering a “man-sized” amount of food and proceeding to eat the lot. (Unfortunately, I never did learn to eat tiny portions but back then I exercised and moved a lot naturally so, even though my weight would fluctuate up and down, I never made a concerted effort to diet, but I also had body dysmorphia and thought I was bigger anyway but I just loved food. I say unfortunately because my love of food has caught up to me in my mid-to-late-thirties.)
I’m not sure if we went back to my place that day or met up another day but from then on we’d hook up from time to time. In some ways, it felt like trying on an old, familiar glove. This person knew me from my past, knew things about me from our whole “two weeks” of going out, of hours on the phone, of times getting to know each other – maybe from chats years later.
The sex was respectful or it was rough and intense when I wanted that. I still after all those years of having a crush on him in high school found him attractive. He was tall, lean, muscular, solid, still had the sparkling blue eyes, but he’d traded the floppy blonde hair for closely cropped (a remnant of his military days). He’d hold me after sex and we’d cuddle up and talk. He was intelligent and I remember whiling away hours this way. Then, I’d fall asleep in his arms.
Once, when my wonderful and beloved friend Landon had come over and was sleeping in my room, First Kiss and his other friend I’d known from high school came over and we formed a mini party drinking goodness knows what from the usual Dixie cups (there are photos somewhere).
I think the semi-famous musician – who is a super talented acoustic guitarist – had also texted me to visit because once (on a previous occasion) he’d come over and I gave him a handjob but we’d never hooked up. But he’d text when he was in town to perform. I’m sure I must have said I had people over.
Goodness knows how I navigated this super-awkward situation. The musician once signed a picture of himself to me which I’m sure I still have somewhere. I remember that he was really muscular because he knew how to do these intense callisthenics workouts in his hotel room and looked a little Heath Ledger.
First Kiss’s friend was pretending he didn’t know who the musician was when I think he actually did and they all struck up some kind of bro chat. Looking back, it’s incredibly awkward to be at your own house with four men, two of whom maybe want to sleep with you, and one of whom is a friend you adore but have abandoned.
After I had discovered Landon left out the window, I was melancholy and amused. I ended up hooking up with First Kiss after the musician had gone home.
Despite what this collection of musings may imply, I was selective with who I chose to sleep with. Maybe after that second person where I’d been vulnerable and rejected, I pretty much tried only to sleep with people who were on the, cough, larger side down there.
I gave far too many hand jobs I’m sure because it was college/uni and sexual acts and intimacy were ways to stave off loneliness (of course I had amazing female friendships but they don’t provide intimacy), to feel good, to feel needed and wanted, if only for an hour or a night.
I’m sure most nights I shared my bed with someone, whether that was a friend or sexual partner, which is funny now that Michael and I have separate bedrooms, our own spaces, and I rarely sleep in a bed with anyone at all (unless it’s Michael on holiday or my niece is sleeping over and doesn’t want to be in the guest room).
I had people who I slept with who used me like a human blow-up doll and people who wanted to please me, understand my body, and some who only came over to go down on me and give me orgasms – poor men! Why bother?
I’d gotten to the point of objectifying men to receive pleasure. After all, didn’t men do this to women? I think these encounters fed my ego, but I had one boyfriend, the Stella Adler Academy Actor (or Dorian who I’ll write about at some point) who was completely uninterested (not attracted to me, antidepressants, and wine as a combo maybe) and that was an ego kill (especially because I endured almost six months of sexlessness instead of breaking things off and finding other people) – and First Kiss was the twelfth man I’d sleep with in the lineup and well after the trauma of Dorian (who was person number eight).
In grad school and quite possibly college, I had sex on most days of the week (except when dating Dorian), some days multiple times (only once with more than one person in a day, though). Now, I know that intimacy and the feeling of contentment aren't tied to the number of times you have sex in a week but the quality of the sex and the emotional connection. But I was either filling a void then (no pun intended) or it was just a case of I enjoyed sexual expression; the answer probably lies between the two (and the fact I didn’t get myself off).
Every time First Kiss would pop up in my life, I welcomed the connection. I enjoyed the sex after all. I enjoyed First Kiss’s company.
But the hookups were on First Kiss’s terms. Once – and I rarely chased down people as this was the first time I’d gone onto the “crazy” scale but I’ll write about the second time later – I knew he was at a party at an apartment block (that also housed the Stella Adler Actor I dated but he’d probably moved in with HSS by that point) and I went to find First Kiss at a party I had not been invited to and where I didn’t know anyone at all but him (cringe) and the friend who I knew from high school who had come to my house that time.
He was full-on ignoring me. I wasn’t sure why. It’s not like I caught him there with another girl. When I caught up to him, he told me, “Elaine, you’re too hot to be this desperate.” Boy did that sting but at least he thought I was hot. Ego win because my self-esteem was always an up-and-down merry-go-round.
I’m not sure if we hooked up again after that, but maybe. However, we still maintained a friendship over the years. We’d message from time to time when I was with Captain Thor. He was there to chat when I was going through my divorce from my first husband.
Despite what he had said to me at that one party when he was young, he was overall a kind and compassionate person – and he doesn’t remember saying it to me but the “bad” things have a way of sticking don’t they?
Now he’s a well-off, successful businessman with a family and three children! How life changes.
Next time, I’ll talk about that time I kissed a girl – and had a threesome.
Don’t forget to check out the other fifteen posts I’ve written, including the one on why I’m writing this newsletter/blog in the first place.
