Things just kind of plugged along for a while. We went back to school to start second semester. We continued to have sex, but not a ton, as we obviously both had roommates. It was actually pretty lame. We had a system down where we knew this roommate or that roommate’s class schedule, and we basically had a schedule of when we could have sex. It was usually in her dorm and it was usually on the couch.

We did mix it up at times, though. At night, when most people were asleep in their rooms, we’d sneak down to the basement of the dorms where they had individual study rooms with just one desk and a chair. We’d sneak into one of those, close the door, turn off the light, slap on a condom and I’d bend her over on the floor. It was risky and sexy and such a… “college” thing to do. Many times we heard someone coming and had to stop and quickly pull our pants back up and cower in the corner, hoping they wouldn’t come in. No locks on the door or anything.

But overall, we were just inseparable. It was never just Stacy, or it was never just Owen. It was always Stacy and Owen. We ate every meal together, we spent every weekend night together. That whole first year of college we didn’t drink once. We’d just sit in a dorm room and cuddle and watch movies and order pizza or go out for dinner. We really were a pretty lame, old couple, especially for only being 19. I don’t know, we were ok with it.

I was isolated, though. People had given up inviting me to things, because they knew I’d either say no or I’d want Stacy with me. I knew my roomie was so sick of her, as she was always in the room. We never really had bro time, because I either wasn’t around or she was with me. But I had just absolutely latched onto her and depended on her for everything and vice versa… we just didn’t stray away from that. Looking back, I felt 100% trapped. But at the time, I didn’t know any better. It was my first real relationship. Just a dumb 19-year-old boy.

I obviously had no idea what I was doing, so I laid down and she got on top of me. My heart was pounding as she fed me inside her that first time. She leaned in to kiss me and then slowly started sliding up and down. My hands were on her hips and I would thrust into her as she came down on me.

I was overwhelmed by the feeling. It was so foreign yet was exactly as I expected it to be. The last 19 years were all pent up, and with the anticipation so high, I naturally didn’t last much more than a couple minutes. Stacy wasn’t on birth control and we weren’t using a condom, so when I couldn’t hold back anymore I pulled out and came on my stomach.

Huge smiles on our faces. I remember my face being completely numb from breathing so hard. Ho-ly shit.

Luckily (for both of us) I was ready for more.

With her still on top, I slid back in and lasted longer. 10, 15, 20 minutes. Something like that. And then I pulled out and came again. I had no idea it was possible for me to do that, 20 minutes apart like that.

She collapsed into my arms and we just laid there and kissed and told each other we loved each other over and over.

I eventually went to the bathroom to clean up, and I just remember looking in the mirror like, “You just had sex. YOU… just had sex.” I just had sex.

So it was January, and I had just turned 19. Winter break was almost over. Stacy had come and stayed at my parents’ house for a couple nights. The rule was that she couldn’t sleep in my room. We had a guest room for her upstairs right next door to my parents’ room, and my bedroom was in the basement. But we would hang out in the basement living room until it was time for bed.

After everyone else was asleep, we moved to my bedroom and started fooling around in my bed. We had to keep it quiet, as my parents’ room was right above mine and it was an old house, so you could hear everything.

Just like telling her I loved her that first, time, I was impulsive again. I didn’t plant to have sex for the first time in my life that night. But we did. We were naked in my bed, fooling around. Touching each other. And then I just asked her, “Do you want to have sex?”

She replied, “Really? Are you sure?” And I was.

3 months went by. 4 months. In December, when school was out for winter break, she came home and met my family and I met hers. She’s very personable and outgoing and sweet, so my family fell in love with her.

Her family was awful, though. Her parents haven’t been happy for a long time, but are still together. Stacy would always fight with her mom over the dumbest stuff. Big fights too. Her mom was crazy. Truly. I’m not even coming from a biased place of being Stacy’s boyfriend when I felt that. She seriously needed counseling and I think something was wrong with her, psychologically.

And Stacy’s brother got those crazy genes from the mother. He was living in the basement of the parents’ home. 22 years old. Absolutely no friends. Very awkward around people. He would explode and yell and cry if he didn’t get things his way. One night I was at their place and we were going to order pizza. He wanted one brand and we all wanted another. When he didn’t get his way, he started crying and yelling, swearing at us all and slammed the door on his way out. Fucking crazy guy. It was always uncomfortable in that house.

We spent every day together. She was always in my dorm room or I was in hers. Everyone else would go out drinking or do something else social, but we would just be alone together. We didn’t make any friends. Aside from Stacy, my only other friend was my roommate, and he was hardly around as he was a big partyer.

And that ate away at me. I did feel myself getting closer and closer to Stacy, but I also felt pretty alone. I wasn’t taking in the college experience at all. It was fine, but it wasn’t. But I was so blind to how unhappy I was with it all until I looked back and dissected it after it was over, which is a LONG time from now…

She was absolutely shaking and nervous when we met up. I sat her down. And did all the talking. I told her I’ve taken the last day to think about it. And I realized that I couldn’t lose her, even though all this stuff was hard to swallow. And I told her it was because I loved her. Looking back, 11 years later… that was ridiculous and I didn’t even know what love was then, but in that moment I thought I felt it. That love was the only reason why hearing all this stuff didn’t make me all out run away.

She told me she loved me too, and we were back to good. It all still ate away at me every day, but for the time being I didn’t want to lose her. I thought I’d try and put up with my mind going crazy in quiet times just to keep her. That maybe that anger and jealousy would get better as time went on.

She let me know that we could go at the pace that I was comfortable with. That she knew I was a virgin and that we would only take it to the next level when I was ready. And wait we did.

And there was more, she said. Because I asked to hear everything, she also told me that all in all, she’d given blowjobs to 12 guys in high school. TWELVE GUYS?? That rocked me. I just didn’t even know what to say. Slept with three guys and sucked off 12, meanwhile before her I was sitting at fingering one other girl and was a virgin.

I felt sick to my stomach. I told her I needed to take a walk on my own and think about things.

I went back to my dorm and told my roomie about everything. He was a lot more nonchalant about it. He said that for a girl this cool, I shouldn’t let this stuff get in the way. But he didn’t understand how strong my jealousy issues were.

Stacy sent me a bunch of texts asking where I was, if I was ok, what I was thinking. I avoided her for the rest of that night and all the next day. That next night I texted her and asked her to meet me at the picnic table between our two dorm buildings. Looking back, I don’t exactly know why I said what I said when we met up… it just kind of happened.

A couple weeks later, after we’d been dating for about a month and a half, I had to tell her how much it was bothering me. My jealousy was overwhelming me and I didn’t know what to do. I dunno, I needed her to tell me about the three. I needed to know everything. And then when I had all the facts in front of me, I’d have to decide if I could handle it all or not.

So she told me. All three guys were just once each. One was a really good friend of hers and it was in the back seat of his car. That was her first time. The other two were with guys she knew from school and hooked up with at a party. So three one-night stands basically. Which is almost worse than three relationships. Ugh. It did not make me feel better.

We continued to hang out in groups a lot, as we were trying to get to know people at our new school. But now she’d be sitting on my lap or holding my hand and kissing me, letting everyone know we were together. The guys on my dorm floor patted me on the back and told me “good job” on getting a girl like that.

One night, about 2-3 weeks after we became a couple, she asked me if I was a virgin. And I was. She said she could just tell, but that it was ok. But then she told me that she’d slept with three guys in high school. Three guys?? Ugh. I instantly felt a bunch of jealousy.

I’d lie in bed at night and it would eat away at me. I’ve never slept with anyone, but she’d been with three. Just to imagine them touching her and feeling her like that. It drove me crazy. I’d shake my head and try and get those images out, but in quiet times they’d always come back. I hated it.