Still no word

I haven't heard back about my "inquiry" about that long lost acquaintance yet.

I'm not stressing about it or anything. I'm just really curious to know if it's really him.

In the interest of full disclosure (because that's, as the kids say, how I roll), this person I am curious about was the first person I had sex with.

Eep.

I know. Am I weirdo? Don't answer that.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that even though it was a sad affair; the whole business of our coupling, it pretty much colored the rest of my carnal history.

I was 15 years old. FIFTEEN.

Granted he was only 16 at the time, but still. When I meet 15 year olds I question whether they are old enough and responsible enough to babysit my kids. I don't like to think that I was their very same age when I 'gave it up'.

And give it up I did.

No fanfare. No professions of undying love. No promises of commitment.

I just wanted to get it over with. And, looking back, that is really really sad.

I know it wasn't just me who wanted to unload the imagined burden of being a virgin. Talking with my friends, it's almost a running theme.

Occasionally I'll meet someone who tells a pseudo-romantic tale of a long-term boyfriend. There's prom or a parents' vacancy. There's trust and teenage love and they actually stay on speaking terms after the big event.

I didn't get any of that.

I wouldn't change much of my growing up years. I had a good time, and most of my experiences made me the person I am today.

But this. This I'd change.

It made me wary of boys and closeness in general. I think I'm allowed to make that assessment now that I am in my 30's.

It's entirely possible that I would have been this way anyway what with all of my natural born tendencies toward the crazypants, but losing my virginity in the way I did probably didn't help matters much.

(cue my paranoia that my Mother or anyone closer than a third cousin is reading this...)

In my perfect world I could sit down for a nice chat and dinner with all of my past conquests, a round table of sorts. Well, it'd have to be more oblong than round...or a banquet hall.

But I digress.

Part of me just wants to know if I was truly as wonky back then as I thought I was. Was it glaringly obvious that I had what bordered on a phobia of getting close to them?

I was a big fan of the 'preemptive strike' with most if not all of them. In my mind, they were going to dump me/cheat on me/talk shit to their friends about me anyway, so why not walk away before they had the chance?

Of course, a lot of them did do some or all of the above, but not all of them. I'm pretty sure I stomped a few hearts during my college tenure.

I think, if this person really is who I think it is (and the resemblance is uncanny from what I can remember from almost 20 years ago), and he really is dead, then I'll just have to make peace with the fact that I'll never know.

I don't think I'd really want to sit down and rehash the sordid details, but I just want to know what kind of person he turned out to be. And, naturally, I'm curious about how he died. I'm not trying to be disrespectful. Wouldn't you want to know?

From what I can tell from the posthumous myspace profile, he was an artist (not surprising) and deeply loved by his friends and family. I'm not being snarky when I say, "Good for him".