I really should be fixing something to eat right now, but I've been inspired to tell more of my past, because I've been reading some random tumblr blog where a young woman has revealed some of her dirty past. I enjoyed reading it, so maybe people will enjoy reading about my past. Right? Who knows.
On May 23rd, 2003, I went to my high school's graduation. I was still a junior at the time, and I didn't know many of the people graduating, but I was bored and wanted to get out of the house. If I hadn't gone to that single event, my life would be drastically different. At that event, I met First Love.
That "name" is a bitch to write, and it's pretty dehumanizing, so I'm going to change it. From now on, I'm going to change "First Love" to "Sayla," a reference to one of my favorite characters from the Gundam universe, Sayla Mass.
I was angry when I got to the graduation. I was usually angry. I used hatred as a shield, to protect me from the isolation I felt. It kept me from being sad. I sat down among some people I knew, just to not be alone. Beside me was Sayla; I had seen her before, as she had dated an acquaintance from school that lived near me, but I had never really talked to her before. Sayla saw that I had a nail file in my hand and asked about it. I explained that I bit down on it, to keep from grinding my teeth, and stuck the plastic end in my mouth to show her. She asked if I wanted to walk around a bit (the graduation was being held in the local park), and I agreed. As we were leaving, Sayla's friend Merry (fake name), who was actually Sayla's girlfriend in a weird way (I'll elaborate on Sayla's bisexuality and their relationship later), told her not to miss the ceremony. Thinking back on it, I think Merry was saying, "Don't spend too much time having sex."
We started walking around the park, starting with a trail through some trees. We had taken only a few steps, enough to get away from the noise of the graduation, which hadn't started yet, when Sayla pointed out an empty condom wrapper on the ground. She gave a small laugh.
As we walked, trees on either side of us and the sun blocked out by their leaves, we talked. About all sorts of things. Who we were, how we each subscribed to our own religious views and didn't belong to any religion, how we perceived the world. We spent a lot of time talking. We did miss the graduation. As it was nearing its end, we were sitting on a creaky wooden swing nearby. I remember that she told me to stand up, that I had some leaves on my back. I was wearing a heavy trench coat, despite the warmth of spring. It was a protection thing, something other Aspies should understand. Wearing the trench coat, I didn't feel vulnerable. Sayla swept the leaves off the back of the coat and said that she wasn't trying to touch my butt, honestly.
After the graduation ceremony ended, we met up with the friends she had come with, Merry and Sayla's ex-boyfriend Lucas (another fake name) and a few others, their sort of posse. I joined them, and we rode around in Lucas's truck for a while. We parked some place, and I fooled around outside the truck with the other people while Sayla and Lucas talked inside. I don't know what they talked about, but I assume it was about how she liked me. Lucas had known who I was, seeing as we were in the same grade and had talked to each other before, and there was no bad blood between us at that time. After they talked for, it had to have been at least half an hour, and I snapped some pictures with my disposable camera (meant for the graduation I never watched), we all got back in the truck and left.
I'm not sure of the exact order of things, but before dropping off Sayla at her house, I asked her for number. Maybe the first time I had asked a girl for her phone number, and so far the only time I have "gotten" a number from a girl that liked me. She wrote it on the booklet or paper or whatever that I had gotten at the graduation. I'm pretty sure I still have it somewhere. After that, we stopped by the house of one of the posse members, who lived nearby. There, we talked about how I liked Sayla and how she seemed to like me. Someone said that there was a Renaissance Fair that weekend, an annual event I had always been interested in but had never attended, and that Sayla liked those and that I should ask her to go.
That night, after Lucas took me home, I called Sayla and asked her if she wanted to go to the Renaissance Fair. She said yes, and the next day (graduation was on a Friday), I was picked up by Sayla, her mother, and her little sister, and we went to the Renaissance Fair. Sayla was wearing this Renaissance-esque outfit, similar to a belly-dancer's. She was so cute. I was wearing a black Slayer t-shirt (the band, Slayer). I didn't have much else besides band t-shirts. We were able to do our own thing, without her mother or sister. As we walked through the fair, an old man dressed as a minstrel took note of my shirt and asked what I was a slayer of. "Of Dragons!" I proclaimed, thinking it made me seem strong. As we walked away, Sayla told me that dragons were revered there.
I could go on and on about the fair, but there were only a few important things that happened. One, I never touched Sayla. I never held her hand nor hugged her. I'm not wired for those sorts of gestures, and this was a girl that seemed to like me, a girl that I really liked. I was nervous, and I was a guy that had never even held hands with a girl before. It's no surprise that I didn't touch her, though I wish I had. The other important thing is that I bought a dragon necklace. Sayla named it for me - Niner, after the dragon in Stephen King's Eyes of the Dragon, a book we had both read, though I'd read it years ago for pleasure and she had read it recently for her Honors English class. Niner was important to me, and he was important to her, too, in the years to come. I don't know what ever became of him. I gave him to her at one point, to protect her. The rope (or whatever it is, that you put around your neck) broke while she was wearing him later on, I know that. Sayla believed in signs the way I do. Niner breaking was a bad sign. I think one of his legs or arms broke off, too. I wonder how much that affected the way she felt about me. Rather, the decisions she made regarding me. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
When we first really met, on May 23rd, I was sixteen, and Sayla was fourteen. She had blond hair and a petite build. She wasn't short, but she had thin arms and legs. Or maybe not. I'm not good at describing people. Even if I pulled out the pictures I have, taken the night of graduation and the next day at the Renaissance Fair, I wouldn't be able to paint a very good picture. She was cute, and hot, and way more than I could handle. We talked on the phone every night. She told me that she was a nymphomaniac, which I thought was exciting. I didn't think about what it meant, nor did I consider what being a nymphomaniac meant. I took it as meaning that she liked to have sex, which was great because I was always horny. But it's more than that; being addicted to sex is different from wanting to fuck your partner three times every day. She made me open up and talk about sexuality, something I had never done with a girl before. Even admitting that I masturbated was a hard thing to do. She got me over my nervousness by talking about how much she masturbated. It sounds really weird, writing it out, but that's how it happened. I remember one of our first conversations involving her saying, "There's the g-spot. Why do guys say it's so hard to find." While talking to me, she had gone exploring and found it herself, heh. Another time she said, "Whoops," and when I asked what had happened, she said that she had been fingering herself, almost accidentally.
We touched ourselves while talking to each other. In the middle of the day, in the middle of the night, whenever we got the chance. But that was over the phone. In person, I was frigid. I was once visiting her at her house, going to have dinner with her family. Sayla and I were upstairs, watching either the first or second Harry Potter movie. We weren't watching it so much as it was on. I was more interested in running my finger up and down her leg, which was mostly bare due to her very short shorts. I had a pillow over my lap, and when I said that I was hard, she moved to take the pillow away. I grabbed it with my own hand and didn't let her move it, shy as all hell. She got up, not overtly angry or upset, and said that she was going down for dinner. I didn't know what to do or say. I got up and was able to hide the erection within my jeans, which were baggy because I hate tight clothing. The thought of facing her mother and sister helped me to calm the little fellow down.
It has since occurred to me that Sayla was coming on to me, and that had I let her move the pillow, I might have gotten a blowjob or handjob. I might have been able to finger her or eat her out. If nothing else, I would have shown that I wasn't a prude. That's one reason we didn't work - I was a prude. I thought anything sexual should only be done between people really close. And I was inexperienced with everything and didn't know what anything meant. To me, a girl wanting to see my erection, even though my jeans, was frightening and embarrassing, and the thought of something good coming of it never even occurred to me. I've also realized that I was the one that started it; I had been running my finger up and down her leg, her thigh. I was inches away from her pussy. Of course she had been excited. If she had known that I wouldn't refuse her, she probably would have tried to have sex with me then and there. But nothing happened.
This was the end of May and the beginning of June. During July, Sayla went down to Florida to visit her grandmother. That's a story that needs to be told. After I tell it, I'll tell about the birthday party, which was a momentous event that affected me for years. It's a horrible story, but I need to get it out.
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