First Cuts Are the Deepest!

Maybe it’s watching episodes of Torchwood that have inspired my verbose diarrhea today. I have to admit that I’m a sucker for that show, although I tend to desire only one person at a time. Well, you know, the odd lustful look at someone else now & then, but when I am in a relationship, I am committed.

Unfortunately, that is not how it happened when I lost my virginity. I lost my virginity to a man and a woman in the span of about a month. I was in college. I had been living in a wonderfully old dorm at the University of __________. One side of this dorm had men’s rooms. The other side was women’s. Will and Matt lived on either side of me. Another Matt & Joe lived upstairs. A third Matt lived on the floor below, as did the usually sullen Tom. The “girls” included Sapphira, Karen, Gabriela, and Willie. I had many friends. I was still relatively social—not as withdrawn as I had been in my high school days. I had friends of all types. Older people (non-traditional students, as they call them). Men. Women. All shapes & sizes. Different sexual identities. People I thought were hot. People I didn’t think were as physically alluring, but whom I loved anyway. I was beginning to finally be comfortable with myself and with my possible attraction to either gender (yes, I am still basing this on that annoying dyad. Binaries are overly simplistic in most things, but that was how I was back then). I was happy just living my life, studying, hanging out with my multifaceted friends. I was never looking for a relationship. Funny how they found me.

I was eating dinner at one of the U cafeteria’s called Smokey’s with 2 friends of mine. We were talking away, & I was trying very hard to make Leo laugh. He was gay & had just been through a bad break-up. Our mutual friend Callie was there as well. We were trying to show him some goofiness in life. We each had plenty to spare! I was trying to be both witty and supremely, pratfally silly. I threw a piece of pie in the air to catch it. Leo laughed, but then the pie flew over my head and landed on an adjacent table where a woman was eating with a female friend of hers. I gasped! Fortunately, the pie missed, & it landed perfectly on her tray as if she herself had placed it there while in line. She turned to her friend and said, “Hey! Pie in the sky! And it’s FREE!” I couldn’t imagine someone being so unperturbed by something, but I apologized profusely for behaving like a fool. She turned around, and a pair of beautiful hazel eyes looked at me. She smiled, and it was like a toothpaste commercial with its blindingness. “It’s okay, but I get to keep the pie”. Her friend seemed mad at me, & I made apologies to her as well. “It’s no big deal,” the beautiful brunette said to me. I stammered something, & she laughed gently and comfortingly. I was relieved when I heard her laugh. Leo and Callie were stifling their laughter as hard as they could. When we all left later, they burst. I still felt weird, but at least Leo was laughing.

A couple days later, I saw her again in the Humanities & Social Sciences building. I must have had that same mortified look on my face, because she smiled again, & I immediately felt better (and warmer) all over. She approached me. I stood stupefied. “Hey, you, I’m Michelle. That was some act you put on the other night!”
“Well, I was just trying to make my friend feel…”
”I know. I wasn’t eavesdropping, but you all were talking so loudly. I was only a few feet away, you know. I couldn’t help hearing. I think it’s totally sweet what you were trying to do.”
“I didn’t mean to throw pie at you, I swear!”
“I know…perhaps you should buy me a piece sometime, hmmm?”
“….I…uh…I’d like that….As long as you don’t want me to throw it in the air & land that perfectly on a table again!”
She changed her smile to a faux pout, “Aww…that’s just what I was wanting!” She then laughed again. I felt my cheeks redden. “Oh, that’s so cute you’re blushing!” A joking retort failed me at that moment. We made plans to meet that evening for dinner.

Well, a wonderful time was had by us both. We talked for hours. She touched my hand at the table. I almost pulled it back like I was being shocked, because I was still afraid to let any kind of desire beyond friendship seep into me. I may have flinched, but I did not withdraw my hand. As the evening drew on & we walked back to her dorm, our hands clasped more tightly. But it didn’t seem tight. It just seemed comfortable. We walked closer together. When we got to her room, she said, “That was a lot of fun, but that’s as far as we go tonight.”

Since I was new to this and was raised never to think of anything beyond a peck on the cheek on a first date, I looked confused. “What kind of girl do you think I am?” She said in mock protest.

“What kind of girl do you think I am?!” I retorted, without even realizing the possible Freudian slip. She looked a bit befuddled and then laughed heartily, the way someone does who has not just experienced humor but joy. That laugh filled my heart and body with such warmth. She pulled me closer. I felt high. Her lips pressed themselves onto mine, then my lips, which had been pursed together to keep from stammering, opened, and warmth again enveloped me, while the rest of the world seemed to dissolve around me. The night did not end with a mere peck on the cheek.

Meanwhile, back at the Batcave, I mean, my dorm, I often hung out with the guys & girls there. With so many Matts around, it was always easy to find one to goof off with. Matt from upstairs was always hilarious. He loved Madonna, was all about Madonna, but he was straight, or so I thought. He was a rough-&-tumble, beer-guzzling, frat-boy type, but he just had this penchant for Madonna. I liked her music, too. Then as now, I collected and listened to a wide variety of music. I would fall asleep listening to nine inch nails, N.W.A., or Edvard Grieg. I borrowed some of Matt’s Madonna stuff to make copies for myself. One night, I was listening to some Ralph Vaughn Williams on my cassette player. I was so sleepy. It had been a long day with a bunch of tests. I had been up late the night before studying. I was so sleepy that I must’ve seemed stoned. There was a knock on the door. I struggled out of bed, & answered it (we had no peepholes in these archaic dorm doors). It was Matt. He didn’t just seem dazed & confused. He’d been out at one of the local bars that didn’t card. He was sloshed. “I was going to go to bed, but I wanted my Madonna CD to listen to…” he slurred.
“Okay, man. Gimme a sec, because I am so totally sleepy.” I blinked hard and tried to find a small light so that neither of us felt the burn on our retinas. I clicked the desk lamp, and we both still blinked like babes being born.
Matt slumped onto my bed since I was near the only chair in my small room. “Dude, I am so wasted!” he chuckled. I’d not noticed how warm his grin was before.
“I might as well be. I’m so fucking sleepy!” I said, trying to find his CD while not passing into a coma. Found it! I turned, & I noticed that he had gotten a haircut. He’d had a normal-ish haircut for the epoch, but he had gotten his hair cut short, like a high-and-tight that some military man might have. “You got your hair cut!”
“What? Oh, yeah. It’s been so hot lately & I wanted to try something different. Does it look all right?”
I thought it looked quite fine on him; I was starting to feel less sleepy and more alert. At least certain parts of me were. “Y-yes. I think it looks very good on you.”
He smiled and pretended to fix some coif. “Thanks!” He then laughed, & that smile returned. I could feel myself returning that grin. The Vaughn Williams was ending. He sighed a little. “Turn the tape over.”
“It’s not the same,” I protested.
“No, I don’t care. That was cool. Turn it over…if that’s okay with you.”
I smiled wryly and turned it over. Bananarama came out of the speakers. Matt bolted upright. “I said turn it over…”
“I did, that is truly what’s on the other side of that tape!” I giggled. Matt laughed and slowly got to his feet. He was so wobbly, he lost his balance. I caught him. His face was inches from mine. I could smell the odor of beer and God-knows-what-else on his breath. “I thought you’d have classical music on the other side.”
“I did. It’s classic pop from Bananarama!” I smiled.
He laughed, and his mouth opened wide. I was so tempted to kiss him, but he pushed me onto the bed. He immediately jumped onto that small dorm bed next to me and began to tickle me. I couldn’t help laughing and tickled him back. He knocked some books off my bedside table off. I could hear stirring from the rooms around us. He looked very contrite. “I am so sorry, “ he pleaded.
“It’s okay,” I reassured him.
“I am so wasted. Can I stay here tonight?” He looked into my eyes, and again our faces were inches apart.
“…Sure, whatever you want,” I said. He looked at me again with puppydog eyes. He then laid his head on my chest next to my shoulder, and promptly fell asleep. When he was asleep, I gently kissed his forehead, and had pleasant dreams through the night.

I awoke in the morning when Matt stirred. That short haircut of his tickled my neck, right between my earlobe and jaw. This tickling sensation traveled through my body, including giving me the clichéd “shivers down my spine.” I chuckled a little, and Matt’s eyes opened. He looked at me and smiled softly. “Are you all right this morning?” I asked.
He rubbed his eyes, “Yeah, I think so.”
“You were pretty smashed last night. Do you have a hangover?”
He stretched and yawned, “No, I don’t think I do.” While stretching, he hit my chest with one of those extending arms. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry!”
“It’s okay. It’s not like you hit me hard, or on purpose.”
He looked at me with a serious look on his face. “Did I do or say anything last night that was…embarrassing?”
“Nothing totally embarrassing, except laugh at my Bananarama tape.”
He put his hands on his head, “Oh, I think I remember that.”
“Yeah, & then you tickled me until I thought I would puke.”
“I did?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Did I…do anything else stupid like that?” He started to look embarrassed again.
“I didn’t think it was stupid.” I then goosed him in the side.
“Stop it!” he laughed, and then he goosed me back. We tickled each other again, but this time we were both fully conscious. We were laughing more than actually tickling until we were both out of breath. Our faces lay inches apart again. “So, I didn’t try anything last night?”
”Like what?” I was only half-jokingly purring when I said that.
Whether he got the joke or not, he looked at me and said, “Like this…” He leaned his head in and kissed me. I had never kissed a man before. I had thought Matt was totally straight despite his Madonna fetish. I was surprised, even if it was what I kind of wanted, and didn’t immediately kiss him back, which he must have noticed. He pulled back. “Oh, my God! I am so sorry!” He sat up and was getting ready to bolt.
“Wait!” I grabbed his arm, more roughly than I meant to. He looked down at my hand grasping his arm. I released him and caressed the area as gently as I could. He looked at me again, & I smiled and put my other hand on his neck below his ear. I stroked him there and pulled him down. Just like with Michelle, my lips parted in acceptance, and again the world apart from our two bodies vanished.

I guess you could say I dated both Michelle and Matt for almost three months, when our schedules permitted. We all practiced safe sex (this was the late 80s). I felt conflicted about dating them both at the same time. I had to turn down date opportunities with Matt because I had made plans with Michelle, and vice-versa. My birthday was also coming up. It was perilously close to the Christmas break. Things at home were not going well. My folks were fighting, mostly about my younger sister, who was in very full-fledged adolescent rebellion. That stress and my inability to do anything about it added to a nagging guilt. I decided that I would make a commitment to either Michelle or Matt, although my feelings for each of them were deep. I again loved 2 people at once. My birthday passed, and I was somehow able to juggle 2 dates at 2 different times. Both Michelle and Matt gave me very special gifts. I felt exhilarated and guilty. Then, my Mom called for my birthday. She was home alone, because my Dad was out looking for my sister. Well, happy birthday to me! I resolved to make a decision.

It was almost Christmas break. My sister hadn’t run away, but she been mostly gone for a week. Finals were looming. Michelle was busy a lot; her architecture classes were stressing her. Matt was drunk a lot; he had to get the partying in. I had to cram for a Japanese final & a Spanish final which were 15 minutes apart. Mixing those two languages up wouldn’t do! Dates were few and brief. Michelle had a killer schedule for the upcoming semester. Mine was going to be less hectic. Matt never let studies get in the way of his fun. I wanted some fun, too, didn't I?, so I made my decision.

I told Michelle that I cared for her very deeply, but that I wasn’t sure if we should continue as a couple. She was very upset, but she never seemed crushed. I never knew what to think of that. She said that her upcoming year would be so busy that it would indeed be practical at the very least. She hugged me, and kissed me. Then, she pulled back and looked at me. She had a quizzical look on her face, “Is there someone else, too?” I was stunned.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because I can feel it.”
“What? …how?”
“Maybe it’s just something a woman can feel…”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“I think I know the answer to my question. I’m sorry I couldn’t be all you needed.” She turned. I tried to hold her, but she shrugged me off. “Go on. Go. I’ll be okay.”
“You’re better than okay. It’s not you; it’s me.” I could hear my own heart and brain saying to me, “I can’t believe you said that!” Michelle looked at me as if she would say the same thing. “I wish you a good life, __________. I know I’ll have a good one!” She strode away sure-footedly. I was left standing and feeling a little stupid and cruel.

Still torn by that, I went to talk to Matt. I got back to my dorm room. My mom called. She & my father were coming now (2 days ahead of schedule) to pick me up so that I could come help them look for my sister. Why couldn’t I have had a car of my own instead of being subject to their schedules? I protested, but it did no good. I slammed down the phone and felt like crying. I lay down, hoping I could fall asleep and forget about all my stresses.

About a half hour later, there was a knock at the door. It was Matt. “Come on in,” I offered.
“What’s wrong, man? You look like hell!”
“Just stressed.”
“That shit at home?”
“That’s part of it. My folks are coming in the next hour or so to come get me.”
“God, I don’t have much time to say goodbye, then, do I?” He tousled my hair & grinned.
“Matt. What do you want to do next year?”
“Whaddya mean?”
“About us?”
“Us?”
“Do want to just keep dating or—“
“Whoa! We’re not dating.”
“…What? What would you call it then?”
“We…you know...hang out.”
“I hang out with lots of people. I don’t kiss them in the ways I kiss you.”
“Well, we’re just having fun. It’s nothing serious. Did you think this was serious? Oh, God! I’m sorry!” He held me close. I felt a least one good-sized tear run down my face and onto his neck.
“I just want to know, Matt, why you would think that going to dinner, watching a movie, coming back to your place or my place & spending the night doesn’t count as dating.”
“That’s what boys & girls do. We’re both dudes.” He chuckled, trying to lighten my mood, but it failed.
“It’s what I do, regardless…”

“Look, __________, I like you. I really like you, & I don’t mean to hurt you. I really enjoy hanging out with you, & I do have to admit I really enjoy the sex.”
“I like all that as well. I like you too, Matt. I could even love you. Could you love me?”
Matt looked at me and sighed. “I…don’t know. At this point in my life, I kind of doubt it.”
“Then, maybe this isn’t going to work out…”
“But, we have such great times together. Maybe things’ll change. Maybe I’ll feel the same way for you as you feel for me.” His hand started to move down my body toward my navel. When it went below there, I grabbed it to stop it.
“No. My parents will be here soon.”
“…okay, but let me give you a Christmas present, please!” He kissed me. Although I kissed back, I could tell that he was trying to impress me, to make me want him right now. I felt I could taste beer already despite the early afternoon hour. He released me, and hugged me again, but it was much more awkward this time. “Have a great break. I’ll see you in January.”
“Bye, Matt.”
Matt turned and headed for the stairwell. He turned back & blew me a kiss. I stood there and smiled. He smiled back, thinking that I had been open to that display, but I smiled because I was thinking, “Why is he doing that now, after all this time? What does he hope to get out of it?”

My parents arrived about a half hour later. We searched for days for my sister. She missed Christmas without a word, a call, nothing. Finally, the phone rang. It was Matt. He was drunk. He was wanting to wish me happy holidays and begged me to come to see him, although he lived 5 hours away. I told him that I had to go because my sister just pulled up in some nasty-looking car. She showed up with some smokey, cokey, skanky guy. She was rude and mean. We were all yelling, which I know is counter-communicative, but we were all riled. My sister flailed her arms to make a “point.” I thought she had hit our mother. I assaulted her. A huge fight erupted. Police were called, but she ran off again. We found her again later. My father refused family counseling because only “she” had a problem. No one brought up the fact that the shy, introverted guy had struck his little sister. I think back know and am mortified, especially because I know that there is no way in Heaven or Hell that she would have hit Mom. If anything, she would’ve hit our asshole father. I can never erase the guilt of that night. I have apologized to her since then, but I still don’t know how much was me wanting to smack Matt or even cosh myself for screwing myself up so completely in one semester’s time. My sister is now well-adjusted (probably better than anyone else in our family). She has forgiven me, because I begged her for forgiveness. I said I was stressed and thought that she had hit Mom in that time of stress. She said, “Even then, if I thought you had hit Mama, I would have kicked your ass first & asked questions later.”
I have since told her a little about the additional stresses that helped lead me to such a dark place that I pray never to see in myself again. Not the whole story. She knows I was seriously dating for the first time, that it was two people at the same time, and that they both ended right before all hell broke loose at home. I just never quite got the nerve to tell her the chromosomal make-up of both involved, but sometimes, I think she knows.

So, I lost my virginity, in 5 ways, to 2 different people in the span of a month. Then, I nearly lost my mind. That was due to Hamleting by not making up my mind and by having too many stresses at once at such a young age. Ah, na laetha gael m’óige! I have always been completely monogamous since then, regardless of the gender of my partner. That’s my story. Might not resonate with you, but each person is so intimately different from everyone else that who knows what we may find in each other, with each other?