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When I was 17 I had a (girl) friend named Kirby. she had this boyfriend named Steve who wanted to have a threesome. She called me. She figured I was the only girl she knew that would do it. Looking back, that's kinda funny since I had only had sex twice at this point. Anyway... I went down to the Broadway Caf� and met them. He was OK. My height, slight build, blonde. We ended up at his place. It wasn't really a threesome so much as me fucking him while she pretended to be asleep. He was OK. After it was all done we were sleeping on the floor. I remember thinking to myself "Oh God! What did you do that for?! He's going to go back to his girlfriend and you will be alone." He was sleeping between us with his arm around her. After a while it became uncomfortable for him, so he moved his arm away. She FLIPPED the fuck out. Went screaming from the house. Neither one of us ever saw her again. He turned to look at me, smiled, and said... "think you would want me for a boyfriend?" Steve was the first person that I had sex with more than ONCE. The two guys before him were just one timers. Right then we became a couple. He was, I was told, a couple of year older than me. At the time he said he was like 23 or something. I was 17. We lied and told my parents he was younger. I spent, like ALL, my free time with him. Every day after school, all weekends. Everything. It was right around Halloween. We were "in love" and we wanted to get married when I turned 18. It was all very romantic. Sometime in December of that year (95) he disappeared after a small tiff we had. I think it had something to do with him going off to smoke pot and lying to me about it. I was very anti drug back then. I looked everywhere I knew to look. He was just, gone. No one had seen him, and he wasn't answering his pages. About two/three weeks later I started to hear things like "oh..have you met Steve's new girlfriend...she's super." I still hadn't seen him. I did see him one night, with his new girlfriend in tow. It was the same night I had resolved to stop looking for him. I walked into the coffee shop where we met, and there they were. He said that they were moving to Colorado the next day. We arranged to meet at the coffee shop the next day and talk. I stayed up all night long and wrote him a long ass letter basically begging him to stay. I went to the coffee shop the next day, but when he came in he didn't talk to me. He was gathering up the other people there to help him pack. I don't know if we talked, but I gave him the letter. He moved anyway. There was nothing resolved, or even explained. I was DEVASTATED. I was totally lost. I felt totally abandoned. My whole world was all sorts of fucked. I began sleeping with every guy who made me feel better at all. And I mean EVERY guy. It was a bad bad time. I got laid a lot, but it wasn't good for me. I used sex as a comfort - and it always burned me. At night, while I was sleeping with these people I was great. I felt sexy, loved and happy. In the morning light I was back to feeling awful again. I dated some people in this time period too (before I met The Mr Q&0153;.) 4 guys. None of which were healthy or made me, in any way really, happy. One guy was actually abusive. It wasn't a good time in my life. Sex was my comfort in this time, but it didn't make me actually feel better. Not on the inside anyway. I didn't see Steve again until my freshman year in college....in Feb of 97. We ran into each other at the same coffee shop where we had met to begin with. I was out with some girl friends and we had just driven by the place where he had lived when we met. I had JUST been telling THEM the Steve story and when we walked in, there he was. We talked that night, and the next night. We slept together, but everything was still too raw to really talk about it all. It was a year after he left. One summer, when I was in college, summer between sophomore and junior year, I ran into him again. We sat down and I told him everything that happened after he left. He cried for the pain he caused me, I cried because I was having to relive it again. Apparently after about 2 weeks with Lily, that was her name, in Colorado he was ready to get back to KC and to me. He moved back after about 6 months, but didn't contact me cause he was too scared. (He was right not to, actually. I was pissed.) His leaving caused all sorts of changes in me. My self esteem went through the toilet and it took years for me to recover. I had abandonment issues for a long time too. I pushed people away because then they couldn't hurt me. I picked guys to date that weren't stellar because then I knew that they would leave soon. I blocked actual love from me, for a really long time. I didn't trust myself. It took me a long time to realize that his leaving had everything to do with him, and NOT with me. It totally wrecked who I was, but at the same time, I know I wouldn't be who I am now without it. I wouldn't go back and change a thing. That experience made me who I am. Everything has a purpose, ya know.
That's It.