I turned and looked at the skinny brown boy behind me and smiled. I asked, "What do you think?. He answered, "Probably not. I'm not either but I couldn't handle the dorm food tonight."
Thus began my friendship with my first love. He lived on the seventh floor; I lived on the ninth. We clicked immediately and spent every waking hour together that first year. We had our own language and habits. On Tuesdays, he would wear my favorite dress all day while I wore a suit around campus. He taught me about feminism and disco and I taught him about small towns and country music. We drank together for the first time. We laughed for hours on end. We were just friends but everyone assumed we were more.
That summer, I moved into an apartment with three roommates and he went home. And came back with his high school girlfriend. They got a small apartment together and I rarely saw him. She never gave him my messages and he told me that she didn't like him having females as friends, despite the fact that I had already come out and was crazy about my first girlfriend.
A year later, he dropped by my apartment for a surprise visit. He sat down on my bed and told me that he would be gone for a few weeks because he was taking Michelle home. I asked how long she was going to be gone, and with tears in his eyes, he explained that she was going to be gone for good. They had broken up. I moved over to comfort him and he hugged me, then told me that he had initiated the breakup. Then he looked in my eyes and said, " I broke up with her because I knew it wouldn't work. I wanted to be with you and she figured it out long before I did. Kerrie, I know you like women and I know that I can't give you everything. I know I can't be your everything....but I need to be your something".
Two weeks later he returned without her. In that time, I broke things off with my girlfriend.
It was a beautiful relationship. He was girly and I was butch, and we fit together perfectly. His adoration allowed me to fully express my personality and become a stronger woman.
We were together a little under a year before we both had to admit that it wouldn't work. I was in love with him but I couldn't stop myself from looking at other women. He wanted to be enough for me and I wanted to be content with him. But it wasn't possible.
After hours upon hours of talking, we decided to separate. We also decided it would be too painful to be friends. Neither of us could handle the thought if seeing the other one with someone else.
It has been sixteen years since we made that decision.
It has been fifteen years since we last saw one another.
I remember everything about him: his middle name, his favorite foods, the way he smelled, his birthday, everything he was allergic to, the way he looked in the morning...everything. I think about him frequently, and wonder if he still thinks of me.
I love my partner and wouldn't trade her for anything....but he will always be my first love.
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