His name was Sterling Espinoza.
I met him the summer before freshman year.
I was smitten. Everything he did woo'd me. I had never met anyone else like him before. He was silly, dumb, goofy, dorky, nerdy, and kind of not afraid to be his stupid self. He was also very attractive to me. And he had a charisma to him that I couldn't place.
He was a boy who loved to banter and loved to flirt. He was also a known man-whore. (But at the time I didn't know of his man-whore rep).
We were on again/off again for the course of almost 5 years.
I was so in love with him. And he was a puzzle I could not solve. He intrigued me so much. Why was he so closed off? What was he hiding? Why was he hiding it? "I must know more" was a thought that kept circling my head.
When we weren't in conflict everything was absolutely amazing, but not in the love bomb toxic/abusive way. We were *friends*. We had a dynamic of flirting/bantering and bickering all in one. We had fun just doing nothing. We had fun just talking/texting.
Although I didn't lose my virginity to him, in my heart mind body and soul he was my first sexual partner.
The sex was fun, silly, unserious, exciting, consensual, communicative, risky/taboo, and most of all affectionate. Oh the cuddling and pillow talk. We would talk about our idealistic futures together and how things would be after highschool.
But the problem was... He was never fully honest with me. He lied, he omitted, he hid, he concealed, he "forgot to tell me", he "didn't know that was important", he "considered her as 'just a friend'", he "didn't think it was that big of a deal". He cheated on me a lot...
I wasn't a saint either. I picked him apart, i criticized, i insulted... I was vengeful, resentful, petty, and vindictive. I was retaliatory. I hurt him when he hurt me.
I was so unstable.
I relied on him wayyy too much when my home life was stressful. I never considered him. I put him on a pedestal, and when he didn't match up with my idea of him I hurt him. I wanted him to be my everything.
He was just a guy. He had his own shit going on.
I was an asshole when he tried to make things okay. I treated him like a punching bag. I took things out on him.
I regret the actions I committed. I can't undo them. But I realize the bullshit he did to me... I've been projecting it onto my girlfriend.
She's not a man-whore. She's not insincere. She's not secretive. She tries her best to be transparent with the cards she has. She's the sweetest, kindest, most generous, most patient, most giving, most loving, most caring, most compassionate, most empathetic person I have ever met.
Anyway, yeah... Sterling... Is a big part of my history. There's more but that's the jist of a very lore filled 5 years.
I recently looked at old photos of him.
And... Maybe it was nostalgia, but even though I'm a lesbian... Looking at his old photos... I found myself wanting to hug him, wanting to inhale his scent of "obsession for men" by Calvin Klein and second hand smoke. I found myself wanting to look into his hazel eyes again, and pressing his full lips against mine. I found myself wanting to press my body against his, and feel the warmth of what we used to have... a dynamic filled with banter, bickering goofiness and light hearted flirting. I found myself missing the feel of the cuddle sessions we used to have while bantering in pillow talk.













