I have been single for about three months now. For those of you not caught up, I have not previously been single since I was 19 and living in a dorm. Needless to say, I have no idea what I'm doing. To my delighted surprise though, I no longer suffer from the same breed of anxiety and generally terrible instincts in the presence of attractive members of the opposite sex that colored all of my teenage endeavors. Granted, I am in no rush to find the next person whose food preferences I'm going to have to start considering on a regular basis, so I am operating at pretty low stakes the moment.
I'm going to stop right now and say that my parents read this blog, so this post is not going to go where I'm sure that many of you are hoping its going to go. Not that my life is interesting in that way anyway. I mean…not that it's NOT…it's just…it's none of your business. Shut up.
Anyway. I'm feeling pretty good about things and I am confident that I have the skills to avoid a lifetime of sadness. So, to mark this new chapter in my life I am going to periodically share some stories from my "romantic" past that I previously vowed never to think about again because they were too upsetting.
Episode 1: The Back Rub Fiasco of 2003
Age: 15
In the summer of 2003, between my freshman and sophomore years of high school, pretty much everyone in my school went on a summer training camp to Switzerland. I don't have time to explain this right now. Just roll with it. For the first time ever, I actually had a boyfriend during this period. He did not go to my high school so he was not on this trip, and we actually had only ever really seen each other twice. It was not serious. It was important though, because it marked a serious improvement in my general confidence.
Boys from my school were generally well-bred and attractive, and they by far outnumbered the girls. There were just so few of us though (less than 100 in 5 grades) and the fact that I spent so much time with everyone my age made the idea of doing anything resembling dating any of them fairly uninteresting. I should also note that no one was exactly knocking down my door with invitations. I did not lament this fact because I knew full well that I was not outgoing enough to begrudge anyone for not paying attention to me. This would end up being the general state of affairs all throughout high school, but in the summer of 2003 I was chock full of the kind of confidence that comes from having a mysterious boyfriend that none of your friends have met. I know now that everyone probably thought that I made him up but at the time I assumed they were all viewing me in a whole new elevated light.
Enter one of the tag-a-long campers who didn't attend our school. Let's call him Buckley. Buckley was very cute and I hadn't just spent an entire year in classes with him so I was drawn to him in ways I could't account for. I have zero recollection of his personality. It's possible that he didn't have one, or that I wasn't really listening when he spoke. But alas, I had a boyfriend, and I was not about to compromise my first ever relationship. I will tell you right now that I was not sexually active at this point in my life, so in case anyone is still hoping that this story is gonna get REAL. It is not.
I don't remember how it came to be that Buckley was in my room with my roommate and I, or why I thought that offering him a back massage could be construed as anything other than a flirtatious advance, or why I thought that it was necessary to have him lie on his stomach and have me sit on his butt while I was giving the massage, but these things all happened. Once I was giving the massage I was feeling very proud of myself for maneuvering the situation, but I had no idea what was supposed to happen next even if I wanted something to happen, which I didn't. Because I had a very cool, mysterious and tall boyfriend. I don't remember what role my roommate played in any of this but she was definitely present. Did she fall asleep? Why did I not get yelled at for sitting on a boy's butt in our room? The answers to these questions are lost to me.
At some point I realized that Buckley was asleep. Still having no idea what to do, I decided to just lie down and go to sleep as well. "This will all resolve itself by the morning" I thought. And then Buckley started spooning me and kissing the back of my neck. WHAT. THE FUCK. IS HAPPENING. Complete panic set in. So I pretended to be asleep. He shook me a bit. I pretended to breath heavily to indicate that I was in a DEEP sleep. Poor Buckley. He didn't know I had a boyfriend or that I really didn't make a habit of this kind of thing. None of this was his fault and I was terrible. He left and I proceeded to never have a real conversation with him ever again aside from once later that summer on AIM chat where I tried to be all like "haha you fell asleep and then I fell asleep and then you left" and he was all like "…right…".
My very cool, mysterious and tall boyfriend broke up with me in an email not long after. "Right…because you were a terrible girlfriend"…is what 'm sure you're thinking right now. Perhaps, but there was a bit more to it than that which I will discuss at the later time. I think I should have just made out with Buckley. Moral of the story is boyfriends are stupid and don't give a boy a back massage if you aren't prepared to lick the inside of his mouth.
Special note: A bunch of people at this camp got busted for drinking and were consequently on probation for the next school year. I think whatever fun thing they were caught doing was going on this same night.
