Sunday, July 31, 2011

Dating: The First 15 Years

Time to start my story so you guys can catch up to where I am now (cuz now is where all the "Back the fuck up" stuff is happening).
  • My first “boyfriend” was when I was 18 and a Sr in high school.  Technically NOT my boyfriend since he was, well, gay, and, well, dating another guy, but I fell for him, we hung out every day, had in-the-same-bed sleepovers, cuddled... yes, yes, yes, OK, fine.  I was his Fag Hag.  Until the summer when we kissed (like, really kissed) and fooled around during one of our oh-so-innocent sleepovers.  Was I his Fag Hag?  Sure.  Was he my first kiss and my first time fooling around? Yup.  My first boyfriend?  You bet your rainbow suspenders he was!  Besides, it's fun saying "my gay ex-bf" and watching people try not to snort whiskey out their nose in shock.
  • First real boyfriend (read: non-gay) was when I was just 20, and he was 17.  The age difference wasn't an issue, and despite the teasing from my friends, I hardly thought about it.  Plus it cracked me up that I broke the law anytime we went to the movies because I was taking a minor across state lines without permission (we lived on the border). We were together almost 2 and a half years, he was my first love, and I've never loved anybody the way I loved him.  Of course I was crazy as batshit when we were together, so that could have something to do with it...
  • Next I was with The Abusive Italian.  Long black hair, full Italian, tattoos, wore leather, and played lead guitar and sang in a metal band.  He was gorgeous, and he opened up a whole new level of confidence in me in bed.  He fucked me like I was a porn star.  Sadly, he also fucked my bank account like it was his prison bitch and he got way too much from me before I left him.
  • Then came a series of guys I dated but wouldn't say were my boyfriends.  Had fun.  Met guys.  Got laid.  S'all good.
  • When I was 27 I was with a wanna-be hip-hop-gangsta who was all Irish and all Idiot.  White boy couldn't even spell gangsta (or gangster for that matter), yet he was wearing his Red Sox baseball hat sideways and overusing the phrase "Let's bounce."  So I did. With someone else while he was on a cruise with his boyz and being unfaithful to me.  We happily parted when he came home.
  • The next boyfriend lasted for a year, until I was forced to end the relationship. We never had sex. No, I mean never. As in NOT ONCE.  And not because of religion or morals or some other socially acceptable reason.  No, no, no, this was because it caused him pain when he got hard and he refused to go to the Dr for it.  Back the fuck up, indeed!
  • And finally, there was my most recent ex. I met him when I was 28, we were together three and a half years, and lived together for four.  I ended that relationship when he couldn't do what I needed him to do.  All I asked him to do was get a job.  Go to therapy for his social anxiety, which made him so sick he couldn't even read help wanted ads without shaking.  Stop playing World of Warcraft for 16 hours a day and realize he was a 32 year old man.  Oh yes, and have sex with me more than once every three or four MONTHS.  Huh, now that I think about it, maybe I was asking too much.  Maybe I should have asked him to cut WoW down to 12, instead of 10, hours a day.  Fucking level 85 Blood Elf.

So now we're at the beginning of 2011, and that's where this story really starts... 

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