To the One who took my virginity.
You know who you are.
Let me introduce you to the person that took my virginity. His name, for this purpose, is, V. get it? V as in virginity. V as in vagina. V as in the first letter of the name of the one that took it.
I met him in high school. Shout out to Grayson High School! I actually met him while I was a junior and he was a senior. It’s actually a funny story about how we met. My good friend at the time needed some of her friends to help her with a project she had to do for English class. This project required us to dress up and record a homemade, very limited budget, movie, to say the least. So not only do I have footage of how small and young I was but I also have footage of V and I in this movie dancing and acting like crazy people.
This was the start of a very long way to the actual deed.
I saw V here and there because of the many mutual friends we had. He would always say that he doesn’t like Latinas, especially Colombians, but that I was the exception. BOY! If this isn’t the funniest thing ever to think about at the moment (today, he’s engaged to a Latina and not just any Latina, a Colombian! – & NO. NOT ME!).
Anyways, I was dating a white boy at the time so I didn’t think much of it. V would flirt with me and I’m not going to lie, I enjoyed it and allowed it to happen. It wasn’t until three years after I initially met him that we started to fancy each other, well until I fancied him. He was always trying to take me out on dates but I always refused him.
There was a moment that I knew I wanted to be with him. Unfortunately, I was dating someone else, the white boy.
The moment V and I kissed, I ended my two-year relationship. It was perfect timing, the white boy and I had just started college and it was time to part ways.
***
Dear V,
I want to start this letter off by thanking you for being my first.
I want to thank you for making my first time a good experience.
You were so kind and gentle.
You didn’t make me feel scared or judgingly asked why I waited “so long” like most people.
Even though I was a month away from being 19, I didn’t think I waited that long. I don’t know why people think you have to lose your virginity at such a young age. I’m glad I waited, I even wish I waited a little bit longer. Don’t get me wrong V, I don’t regret what happened at all. I’m actually glad I was with someone who was experienced. I couldn’t imagine how awkward it would’ve been with someone else that was a virgin.
It was actually my sisters birthday. That’s how I remember the exact date it happened.
Oct. 21, 2012.
I was house-sitting my sister’s house, the one whose birthday it was (I guess she was out of town for her birthday). You came with me to check on the many animals I had to feed. Then we headed out but not before we made out in the living room (sorry sis!).
I invited you for dinner with one of my good friends and her parents. After dinner and meeting “my parents” we went to our friend’s house to all hang-out, like a double date. We got tired. We left. I followed you back to your place. My mom thought I was spending the night at my sister’s house. Perfect excuse for not coming home that night.
I knew. You knew. We both knew what was going to happen.
This was my first sleepover with a boy. You knew that. You knew that I had never been with anyone, at least not at that level of intimacy.
I wish I could say every movement was remembered but all I remember is the way you gently touched me with your hands. The way you took control of my body and moved me into different positions, effortlessly. I felt as I was the only girl in the world. I felt like I was light as a feather, you made me feel so small, in the best way. You made me feel loved, you gave me the confidence that I didn’t know I needed. You showed me how to be intimate in a different way. V, you constructed the way I forever would look at men after that night.
I thought to myself, “hmmm…so this is sex. don’t understand the hype about it”
I did feel different. I feared that people would know. That my mom would know.
I felt like every time I saw you, we had sex. Or at least every other time we saw each other. We were addicted to each other bodies. I loved the attention you gave me and loved, even more, your touch on my bare skin.
It wasn’t until WAY later when I had sex with someone else (and others) when I thought to myself,
“OHHHH! NOW, THIS IS SEX!”
but honestly, it’s SO different every time.
V, if I’m being honest. It came to a point in our whatever-ship that I didn’t feel secure anymore.
V, you had such a big heart but I truly didn’t understand how big it was until a few days after we parted ways.
About a month after I lost my virginity, it was my birthday. I remember you came by and brought me some flowers and some chocolate to my doorsteps. Later that night, you brought me a pregnancy test.
I felt the world spinning as I was sitting in the bathroom, alone.
V, I was so scared. I had never taken one in my life. This was the first time for me. I didn’t know what to expect or who to call. I took a deep breath and released a big sigh when I saw that it read negative. I was elated.
This was when I first starting thinking about what we were doing. Why did it feel as if you didn’t care at all? I felt ashamed for participating in something so sacred. You see V, I grew up going to church. I was afraid that I wasn’t going to be saved or that I was going to be disowned by my mother. I was scared that I didn’t have a back-up plan. I was nervous because I knew at that moment, you claimed to be not ready for commitment. Meaning that I couldn’t count on you.
That didn’t stop me from continuing to date you.
V, you’re such an amazing friend, you really are. Anyone that is friends with you is lucky to have you on their side. I felt that I was lucky.
My young, naïve self, thought that maybe, just maybe, I could change you. I was dumb.
I finished my first semester of college and celebrated by going to Colombia during a break. We would talk, Skype, message through Kik, exchange new songs, etc… you asked me to be your girlfriend through the phone on Christmas eve I believe. I don’t recall saying yes or no. I know that I said yes but you have to ask me again in person.
When I finally came back home from my trip.
You asked me in person to be your girlfriend. It wasn’t anything special. We were in the car and you asked me. I leaned in and kissed you. I pulled away slowly, whispering to try again tomorrow.
I don’t know if I ever told you or if I did and you forgot. The day you asked me in person to be your girlfriend, I couldn’t say yes because you asked me on the day that would’ve been my second anniversary with my ex.
The next day came, and you asked me again in person. I said yes!
15th of January 2013.
We were finally in a relationship. A real one. I had a boyfriend. You were my boyfriend.
I was so happy. You made me the happiest. I was love-struck. I thought I loved you and that you loved me.
I was wrong.
Our very short-lived relationship ended about 3 and a half months after you officially asked me out. I should’ve seen all the signs. All the red flags. All the warnings.
It wasn’t until weeks after I broke up with you that I realized that I was being played and used. Remember how I mentioned that you have a big heart? How big is your heart? You thought you could have two girlfriends… how much money did you have to keep that up? The many nights that you would go to bed but be out and about. The many days that you had work things or stayed late because of work.
V, I thought I was your one and only.
You hid me from your social group. They thought that I was the one making our relationship up. People thought that I was the one that tried to break up your full-on relationship with the girl you cheated on me with. You thought you could get away with this. You changed your Facebook privacy settings so our mutual friends and I would see certain things while your work life and social circle could see the reality of your full-blown relationship with another girl.
She was in a relationship with you. You put that it was complicated between us. Since when?
Valentine’s day: the night before, you came over to my home and I helped you with your digital media homework. Then the next day you dropped off roses at my work to surprise me. But were they even really for me? Or did your guilty conscious told you to do that? In all reality, you had all these things in your car for the other girl. You took pictures of her at work, because oh yeah! She worked with you and she was your best friend. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.
As soon as she broke up with her boyfriend, you became hers.
Anyways.
You cheated V.
I gave you all the trust in the world and never once questioned your whereabouts or the girls you hung around with. Not once. I trusted you.
You shattered that trust. You broke me.
But it’s okay. I have forgiven you.
You taught me what I don’t want in a relationship. You showed me what love isn’t supposed to look like.
I’m glad we’ve moved forward and even became friends for a moment, years after the damage was done. (FYI – we don’t talk anymore because we don’t know how to be friends with each other.)
I hope you’re happy now and I hope the love you have is a forever love. Endless love. Pure love.
Sincerely,
E. Barona
Facebook Comments
