Something I always think “what if” about.
Day number 11- damn, this is certainly taking longer than it should. I guess it’s not exactly a “30 day challenge”…Oh well. Let’s just go with it. It’s a challenge nonetheless since it gives me a topic to write on.
So. Moving onto the topic.
I’m going to admit something rather personal…something I really don’t like admitting.
Summer 2012, when I was involved with John Doe, a family friend returned home. I was twelve when he moved away, so 8 years later, I’m not so little anymore.
My sisters kept teasing me, saying we’d make a cute couple, that he really likes me, blah blah. You know, all that teasing a sibling (or friend, if you’re an only child…) does. And I’ll admit, he was-is-cute, funny, such a gentleman- and military. And honest, outdoorsy…Actually, he was, no is, one of the best good guys I’ve ever met.
I told my sisters he didn’t like me that way, we’re just hanging out. Just friends, as friends, and nothing more. John Doe was jealous, pissy any time I was with him.
He never did make a move on me…although one night we’re cuddling on the couch watching a movie, and out of nowhere he says, “I like your pink underwear.”
Um. What the fuck? I probably blushed and said “thanks, me too” but I was too focused on how the fuck did he see them?? I was wearing a dress sure, but I never felt him lift it up and look, and it was definitely long enough to cover my ass when I bent over.
I had so much fun with him. He’s the only guy I ever felt like I could truly be myself around.
But then his mom died, and he buried her, and went back to his other home, in another state. And I never could afford a flight down. And when I could…well, he had a girlfriend.
And I’ve kicked myself, hated myself…what if I had quit seeing John Doe? Would things be different? And what was I so afraid of?
I tell my sister that if only this friend had returned home even a couple weeks earlier, it would have been different…but he hadn’t, and I had already given my virginity away to John. And that’s what kept me from possibly ditching him.
I don’t know. I just know a part of me cares deeply for him. And I’ll probably always wonder “what if”.
What if… I never fucked around with John Doe.
What if… I pulled myself together and went on a trip to see him.
What if… I didn’t ignore the signs of his interest.