This Rejected is going to get a bit NSFW and possibly a bit less detailed...
After my uber-crush in high school with MPJ, other sexual adventures, and the time I had a threesome with a racially insensitive moron (discussed in an old DAR Stories), I stuck to "traditional sex." Well, as traditional as you can get in 2006. I did what most guys do when they get to that point: I perused Facebook I started chatting with a young woman named Morgan (Ed. Note: name changed), saw what her game was and started “dating” her, as I kind of thought that Morgan would be a person who’d get my mind off of my dick. But, she kind of was a tide-over until something more amazing came along...for both of us. I know, I know. It's a dick move, but stick with me a bit.
Morgan and I IM'ed each other, and Facebooked, for most of the first day we were talking or whatever. That night, I invited myself to her spot. When I finally met Morgan face-to-face, I was kind of taken aback. I wasn't exactly expecting her to be a "big girl," but she kind of was. She was about 5’2 and kind of bigger. I didn't judge, though. Why? Well, I was never the guy who’d be like "fuck you, you’re not skinny," because that’s just mean. I don’t discriminate. Plus, I mean, even when I had some semblance of V-Cuts, I was still a bit doughy. So...yeah. Never been the hardbody type.
But, aside from that, her personality was pretty cool and she knew Family Guy quotes and stuff. Clutch since I was a huge FG fan at the time. She drank like a fish, and swore like a sailor. Essentially, Morgan was like one of the guys. That is, if one of the guys was a funny young woman with huge tits the size of a small child.
Once in her room, I noticed a contrast between, for instance, my homeboy's room and my room. It was clean. There were no beer pong tables fashioned out of closet doors, no boxes of girlfriend junk in full display, no array of Adele's (Ed. Note: Adele's is a restaurant in the Stamp Student Union at UMD) chalices from eating their jumbo ice cream shitstorm. I made myself at home. I hopped into her bed and we started to make out a bit and all that. It was pretty fun. We then chilled for a bit, watched some Family Guy and then said our goodbyes for the night.
I ended up leaving sometime around three in the morning because she had to go to class early the next morning. But, I knew something. The next day we were together, I had to have sex with her. I wanted to, she wanted to, our hormones were raging, and the chemistry was, at least sexually, kind of there. I thought so, anyway.
The second full day we were dating, I invited myself to her spot again. And, I was prepped to give her the D. I had condoms, I had a couple shots before I got there, and I even had the "extend" lube on the condoms, since it’d been a while since I’d done shit and was probably rusty. I needed that hour-long whiskey dick the first time around, since first impressions are everything, it seems.
But, once I got there and got to her, and I know it's an asshole move, I wasn't as horny as I was the night before. I half-heartedly performed the sex with her. Some would say that I was timid while engaging her. And truth be told, I kind of was. My heart wasn't into it and my sex drive wasn't into it, so I fumbled through the motions like a virgin. We both achieved orgasm, but I felt empty afterwards and a bit virgin-like.
This led her to believe it was my first time having sex. Well, that and the fact that I lied about my sexual encounters because most of them were just head-shakingly bad. After I finished, she kissed me and said "now, you’re not a virgin anymore."
But, that’s it. Our "relationship" was basically just based around the three F’s: Food, Fucking, and Family Guy. We'd go to eat at the North Campus Diner or order food, we’d fuck a few times, and we’d joke about Family Guy. But, I wanted more. I saw my boys get into relationships where there was a fourth F: A "fire."
Now, I'm not even just romantically or sexually. But, I wanted that fire. I wanted that something that sparked change, sparked discussion. Hell, I just wanted a spark period. Because of this, I began to become really distant and standoffish with her, mostly because of my unfulfilled nature. I also developed a jealous streak that I knew I couldn't rock with. Maybe it was me trying to feign a fire, but whatever the case was, I had to end things. A month into our "relationship," I told her that we needed to talk. And, like the asshole I was at the time (I'm owning that I'm not perfect or that wise at times), I texted her.
Look, I know it wasn't "cool" or legitimately right to do so, especially since she shared her body with me. But, I was almost nineteen and stupid. I'm not asking for forgiveness or trying to explain it away, but at nineteen, I was a lot less knowledgeable about humanity than I am now--and thought that "hey, if she's just going to use me for dick, I can be like 'fuck you, I’m gonna break up through text.'" And, no, before you ask, Ms. Pink Jacket didn't randomly pop back into my life; she was doing her own thing at a college in Baltimore.
But, I digress.
After my text, she gives me a call. I try to talk my way through the situation, the best way I could at almost nineteen.
"Morgan," I began. "You’re really cool and all, but this isn't working. I like sex and all, but I want more."
"So, what? You’re breaking up with me," she asked.
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I know, I'm an asshole. Morgan. It's not you, it's me."
"Damn right it's you. I've been giving myself to you and--"
"But I don't want just sex! That’s just it! Have you been listening to me at all?"
"Then what do you want, Speed?"
"I want love. A relationship not based on sex. I want...a spark. Like, there's this girl--"
"Have you cheated on me?"
"No! There's this one girl, and I've crushed on her for the past year and we really have a good rapport, but we've never been single at the same time--"
"So, you're leaving me to chase after her?"
“No...I’m leaving you because I think that anyone else, her included, can give me more in a relationship than just sex. I need that spark."
"Then, good luck."
In hindsight, perhaps I didn’t handle this properly. In fact, I was, again, an asshole about it. However, as much as I like sex, I don’t want it to be the only thing I have in common with a person. And after Morgan and I went our separate ways, I began to pursue this crush of mine. Little did I know that this crush of mine would turn out to be Lady Speed. And, since she is Lady Speed, the path to her was unlike anything I’d seen before, MPJ or otherwise.
I didn't see much of Morgan after we broke up. During the beginning of my sophomore year, we tried to link up again. And, like that first time, it was awkward and confusing. We eventually agreed to be just friends, then acquaintances, then just people who looked at each other's kid pictures on Facebook and maybe like them. It was for the best, as we both ended up finding what we were looking for in other people. Again, learn from your dumbassness. Don't just continue to be dumb.
And don't break up with people through text. That's fucked up.