I fell in love for the first time at seventeen. He was a tall, feminine-looking boy and I was completely enamoured with him. He wouldn't sleep with me, so I just gave him oral sex and called him all the time. I was naive.
After he dumped me, and my heart broke, I clammed up. I vowed I'd never feel that vulnerable again or be that in love with anyone again, and for a long time, I stuck to it.
With every passing year, my cynicism got worse. When I was twenty-two, I discovered that I could make any man want me by saying I was interested in having a meaningless sexual encounter. People that HATED me before were suddenly in love with me. I realized how much men want sex and how little they attach it to relationships. I started to feel that all men were using all women and that they never really cared about you. I didn't really have meaningless sex with the guys. I just said I was interested and watched their reaction. Then if they actually flirted with me, I backed away.
There was a man I had known for years who had always wanted me. Out of boredom and loneliness, I finally agreed to date him. One night I told him I liked him because he was smart and handsome and I asked him why he liked me. He said it was because I had a tight, wet pussy and I didn't make him buy me stuff.
I had other, similar experiences with men. I was really giving up on them. Then, by accident, I met someone online. It was in a politics chat room. He was one of the smartest people I had ever talked to. (I have a thing for men with brains.) We were just friends for a month or so. We talked in instant messages for five or six hours a day. Then, one night, he told me he loved me.
I thought it was silly. We'd never met or talked on the phone. It was just infatuation - but the truth was, I felt it toward him also. I told him I loved him, even though, intellectually, I didn't believe it was true.
I met him for the first time in October of last year. I was going back east to help with the Kerry campaign, so I decided to meet him while I was back there. I will never forget how good it felt to see him, to have him hold me and kiss me. I had told him I wasn't going to sleep with him, and I stuck to that for the first twenty minutes or so. Then we made passionate love in his bed. I had never felt so good in my life. It started to feel a little bit real. I still didn't believe it was anything more than a lustful infatuation, but it was a very enjoyable one.
Over the next year, I saw Kevin all the time. He flies here or flies me out there about once a month or once every two months and I fell deeply in love with him. Some people think I'm nuts for taking a long-distance relationship so seriously, but the truth is, Kevin and I see each other more than some people who live in the same state. He visits for 7-10 days every 1-2 months, so compare that to a couple that goes out on a date every Saturday. They see each other, what 4-6 times a month? And I talk to Kevin on the phone every day for an hour or so. I have slowly come to believe in the relationship. I feel like it's very real now and very serious.
He makes me feel safe and loved. When I'm down on myself he's always there to take care of me. I know him better than anyone in the world and I love him to death.