When I was 12 I met an older guy from the internet. Like twice my age. To be fair, I was very promiscuous. He was really cute. We were both into pretty much the same things and had tons in common. We were both goth, artists, musicians, into the same music, both writers, both depressed…and both horny.
I realize now how dangerous it was but it was actually wonderful. He’d come over at night, I’d sneak him in. He was a perfect gentleman and very shy at first but eventually things progressed. We never had full on sex but we did everything else.
I eventually introduced him to my family and to my surprise they were cool with it, probably because they liked him more than any of my other boyfriends. I could tell he had been hurt a lot and he seemed to really love me. This went on for like 10 years. We were never exclusive mainly because we lived far away.
He was always reassuring me how pretty I was, how smart I was, always wanting to see my new paintings, introducing me to new music, showing me how to play certain songs. I never thought anything bad about the whole sexual aspect of it, in fact, I craved his attention, especially when we’d cuddle. He liked for me to sit in his lap while he ran his hands all over me and just looked at me and kissed me. He’d hit certain spots that made me crazy.
After him, I couldn’t be bothered with boys my own age anymore. Come to think about it, he was the best relationship I ever had. My only regret is not keeping in touch with him. If I ever remember his last name, I’m going to look him up because all these other relationships I’ve been in just feel empty. I miss him so much.
