I met my first crush my freshman year of high school. He was a senior, and even though our lives crossed for only a few months, he was on my mind for the next three years. He was mature, even for his age. Once he asked me if I believed in sex before or after marriage, and I replied, “Before.” He laughed, and told me he thought otherwise. He was a pastor’s kid. I remember watching him talk and listening to every word carefully. For some reason, that afternoon, he convinced me that it was something special. Something that was meant to be saved. After that summer, he distanced himself and I found him impossible to read. Although I was still crazy about him, he wasn’t crazy about me. He was looking for something short-termed, but I was looking for something long-termed. Yet, he was frustrating in the sense that he still controlled every aspect of my romantic life. He was accepted into Berkeley, and he left. Every time I thought I met someone I could potentially fall for, a single phone call from him changes the entire game. The next three years of my life, I waited for him to change him mind.
But, he never did. I met my first boyfriend my junior year of high school. He was one year older than me, and after one year of courtship, I finally got with him during the summer time. I kept in touch with my first crush, and we met up a few times. He asked me if I was sure about this boy, and I replied “yes.” He smiled, and afterwards, we went our separate ways. I couldn’t help but feel he was the one that truly understood me. The one that I could truly talk to about anything. But, he was lacking something. He didn’t love me. My first love did. Was I really going to be the idiot to go after the fantasy when reality was right there in front of me with puppy dog eyes?
My first relationship began well. After some time passed, our relationship grew as well as intimacy. He constantly pressured a sex, despite my attempts to reject him. I thought about my first crush. The way he spoke to me that summer. Every time my boyfriend and I went further, his voice would echo in my head and I would stop. Maybe his voice was used to represent my morals. Or maybe, he was a guardian angel. At the end of the day, the person I knew I wanted the most was my first crush.
I knew it was wrong, and I was so damn innocent back then. My boyfriend kept pressuring me, questioning if I loved him and promising me that we will get married one day. And for some reason, I believed him. The first time a boys tells you he loves you, you believe him. The day I gave my body up to my first boyfriend, my crush’s voice left my head. He was gone. I cried. I cried because of the pain. I cried because my boyfriend took advantage of me. I cried because I couldn’t stand my ground. I realized at that moment, I had broken a promise with my first crush, but made a new one with my first boyfriend. He kissed me and held me until I stopped crying. And I was left to wonder about these promises I couldn’t find the words for.
What does sex, or even abstinence, obligate us to do?