He was a quarter African American. He was a singer songwriter and an amazing dancer. His voice reminded me of Justin Timberlake, but the soulful J.T., not the pop star.
It is no wonder that we became good friends the moment we met, freshmen year in college. We both lived in the same dormitory. We both had significant others then too.
We used to get together and sing. Freestyle, jazz, whatever. I would listen to his songs and he would critique mine- it was wonderful to meet someone who, at times, felt like the boy version of me.
Two years after we met, we both became single. We found comfort in each other since both our break ups had not been our decision. We used to meet for lunch after class on the days we had Political Science together (we even shared the same major) and eventually I told him I had feelings for him. He cut me off short, saying that he didn’t want to be the rebound boy.
I left it at that. We remained friends and after a year or so, we were both still single. For some unknown reason, we started to hang out more. One night we went out drinking to celebrate my 21st birthday. We danced together all night, clearing the dance floor of every bar and club we went in- there was no denying our chemistry and our passions were stamped on our faces and it exploded out of our fingertips, hips… During one of our dance numbers, we ended up kissing. And the rest of the night, we kissed a lot.
I saw him in class the next morning and we talked things over- did we have something? Was it just a kiss or should we try to take things further? He was not the kind of guy to kiss someone and pretend nothing ever happened- you see, he was the kind of person that did everything with passion, that thought everything meant something- I loved that about him.
We started dating shortly after. He was the most sensitive and wonderful guy I’ve ever been with. He understood me in ways no one has, mainly because we were so alike. I could talk with him without fear of being judged or misunderstood and he made me want to be a better person, as cheesy as that might sound.
But he was still a virgin.
Not that this bothered me. I appreciated his morals and his decision to save himself for marriage. I myself had tried to do the same thing a few years back (but I failed. Miserably). He used to come over and watch movies and it almost always ended with the movie watching us.
And then one night, in the heat of the moment, Ryan offered to let me give him oral sex- that he was willing to “give me that”.
I almost laughed out loud.
I think I kinda knew then we weren’t going to work out. He was so naïve… The way I had been before I had become so disillusioned with everything. Still, I didn’t want to corrupt him. Or tell him that he was partly living in his head and that his ideals were just that- fictions that didn’t’ actually translate to real life. He deserved better. I wasn’t going to be the one to ruin it for him.
We were together officially for a month. My feelings for him, which were so strong at the beginning, faded away. I couldn’t stand that I had found a perfect guy and had just lost interest. So much for the theory of prince charming…
Prince Charming is perfect. But he’s also boring. And possibly a virgin.
I know for sure he is still singing his little heart out and driving the girls wild. I’m not sure if he’s still a virgin. But something inside of me hopes he is. Or that he found someone worthy to give that gift to.
So here’s to you, my little virgin boy! Thank you for teaching me that as perfect as someone may be, sometimes they are just not perfect for you.
I hope one day you find the one who will only have more and more interest in you as time goes by.
Until then, let’s dance!
Love,
Gia.
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