Continuing the Paul saga...

So, back to Paul.

I was instantly in love, as I already mentioned. About 6 weeks after dating, I lost my virginity. I was only 15 years old, and there was NOTHING special about it. I was in the basement of my home, on the couch, with my brother's in the room. Of course, we were "hiding" under a blanket, but, looking back now it just seems so desgrading, trashy and sad.

In any case, it was the beginning of my life as a sexually active teenager. We had sex at every chance we got. We were seriously sex-o-maniacs. We would purposely walk home from the local pizza shop while everyone else drove, so we could have sex in the woods. We used to pull in this little secluded area in the back of a church parking lot, and have sex there...a lot. We would take advantage of a brand new playground they had built...we christened about every square inch of the thing. And it is pretty big! We had sex in the back of Paul's car, in any available parking lot we could find. We were seriously into the sex!

I remember confiding in my sister about needing some birth control. My parents were divorced and I lived with my dad, he wasn't exactly approachable on these types of subjects. I remember going off to Planned Parenthood with my older sister and getting me goody bag, filled with several packs of birth control pills and condoms. Oh, I was so responsible. About a year later, my father found one of those empty birth control packs in the trash can and blew a gasket! I still remember sitting on the steps that day, his face bright red with anger, and he was demanding to know where I got birth control pills. Without a second thought, I sold my poor sister out to the highest bidder. My dad was furious! So was she.

On my 16th birthday, I found out Paul was cheating on me. We went to different schools, and a friend that went to school with him confided in me about his cheating. I remember my family have cake and ice cream for me, my brother and sister were there (they are older and had already moved out of the family home.) Paul had stopped by and given me a beautiful aquamarine ring, then I confronted him about what he did. We stood outside for what felt like forever, me with a broken heart, and him trying his best to convince me it was a huge mistake and it would never happen again. I sent him away and returned to my party. I have pictures from that night, of me, sitting at the table holding my niece in front of my birthday cake. The heartbreak was evident in my expression, yet no one at the table could see it. I held my head up high until I was able to get to me room for the night, and then cried like a baby.

Paul and I split up. I was so hurt and I needed to be away from him. Within a few weeks time, I ended up having sex with a friend's brother. He as also a friend of Paul's. I remember putting myself out there, knowing exactly that I was doing this as some sort of "payback." Immediately after having sex with John, I felt sick in my stomach. And within a month of the incident, the truth came out. Paul and I were trying to work things out, and we were sitting out back on my deck. A mutual friend called my house (we had a phone out on the deck) and asked if they could talk to Paul. Little did I know, he was telling Paul about what had happened between John and me. Worse yet, my father was listening on the other end!

Paul left in a fury. He wouldn't even look at me. I went to a friends house to get away. I remember calling my dad later that evening to ask if I could spend the night, and he said no. My dad never said no, something was up. Boy, was that a horrible car ride home. He picked me up at my friends house and immediately, and uncomfortably, starting drilling me about who this boy was that I had slept with. Oh shit, it was not easy to talk my way out of that one...but I did. Well, I think my dad new the truth inside, but it was easier for him to believe the nonsense I was telling him than to think of his little girl sleeping around. We never spoke about it again after that car ride, never-ever!

The next several months got complicated. My friend, Amy, was furious after she found out I had slept with her brother. She wouldn't talk to me despite my pleadings. Our entire circle of friends was in an uproar. John wouldn't speak to me, Paul wouldn't speak to me...it was horrible. In time, things blew over a bit and started to get bac to normal. Paul and I attempted to work things out...again. John and I made up, and resumed sleeping together on occasion. Sick, I know. However, at the same time, Paul was sleeping with other people as well.

We slpit up again after about 6 months, and one night Amy and I were going to a party at another friends house. We were walking down the steps to the basement and I looked into the room and saw my other "best friend" Jane, sitting on Paul's lap. I almost threw up. She was my best friend, had been since we were 5 years old. What were they doing? I turned and ran, as fast as I could. Amy followed and no sooner did we get outside and a little down the sidewalk when the police showed up. Amy and I kept walking and weren't stopped. We walked for what felt like forever not knowing what to do, or if our friends had been taken away in police cars! There was alcohol there, of course. Eventually, we saw Paul...as his image came in more clearly, I realized he was walking with Jane, and they were holding hands. I couldn't speak. He hugged me, asked if I was alright. He offered to drive us back to Amy's house and we accepted. Paul was my boyfriend for a couple years at that point, and despite the fact that we were broken up at the time, he was still "mine" in a sense. I will never forget walking to his car, him opening the door and pushing the front seat up for me to climb in the back. He was putting her before me...he put me in the backseat and closed the door after she climbed into the front. He dropped Amy and me off first, and then drove off with Jane. My heart was broken completely.

I spent the next month alone. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep and I wanted nothing to do with anyone. My family was worried, my friends were worried and Paul was trying desperately to get me back. I swore I would never speak to Jane again, and after my step-mother found out about what happened, it was made clear Jane was not welcome in our home any longer. Paul ditched Jane after a week or so, and was begging and pleading with me to take him back. I told him to go to hell. I lost 40 pounds, in a couple months time.

John and I started our "relationship" back up again, and with a little help from him, I started to see the light of day. I started to smile again, and I was actually happy with John. And then the phone call came. Paul, calling me from the floor of his kitchen. He had cut his wrists and then called 911. He told me if he couldn't be with me, he didn't want to live at all. He was taken to the hospital, stitched up and then spent some time in a psychiatric facility. He made me feel bad, he played on my weakness and I took him back. It was nearing my senior year of high school, and I wasn't in love with him anymore. I simply felt horrible that he attempted to kill himself because of me. What a dumb little girl I was!

He got out of the hospital, had my name tattooed on his chest and tried his hardest to pretend like nothing ever happened. Meanwhile, I was desperate to be away from him and so badly wanted to be back with John. Before long we were sneaking around to be together. Not long after that, I ended things with Paul...for good.

I started out my senior year of high school in a relationship with Paul, and by November was single. Paul quickly started dating a girl from another school, but a girl we all knew. He was a year older than me and already graduated high school. Within a months time, she was pregnant. They had a little girl together, quickly followed by a hard hitting heroin addiction Paul picked up.

I believe they had two children together and she left him once he got really bad into the drugs. I ran in to him hear and there for a couple years after high school, he looked horrible. Tattooes all over his body and looked like he weighed about 82 pounds soaking wet. I don't know what happened to him. I don't know if he is even still alive today. All I know is that he and I had some of the best sex of my life, we were young, adventorous and free. We also hurt each other deeply. His cheating on me caused me to lose trust in men in general, and I still struggle with it to this day. We were hot and cold and had a love hate relationship. It was an experience, a life lesson learned for sure. I wouldn't change it if given the chance as I learned much a grew a ton throughout those years. He was my first love, the man I lost my virginity to and the first guy to break my heart.

Lastly, he was the only man to tattoo my name on his body. The only man that ever attempted suicide because of me and made it extremely hard for me to have sex with anyone else. The one thing Paul had going for him was a very much, above average, penis. I am talking close to 9 inches. Being a virgin, I thought this was normal...and when John pulled his pants down the first time we had sex, and I saw how small his was in comparrison...I thought someone was playing some kind of joke on me! I couldn't figure out where the rest of it was! And honestly, not one guy has measured up, size wise, since Paul. Not only was he good in bed, but very well endowed to boot. Proof enough for me that not all men are created equal!

More to come...