How Not to Get Laid

Submitted by Matthew, Age 61, New England, USA

Then, not getting laid wasn’t what hurt the most. Now, forty-three years later, it is. There’s nothing like being in love the first time. Those feelings last forever.

She was in love with me too, in the same way. We declared that, someday, we would get married.

We were both virgins, but hot to experiment. We met during the summer and had a comfortable place to be alone, and we undressed each other and, without intercourse, made love often.

My friend was in nursing school. She had studied the rhythm method and took her temperature each morning. One night when we were in bed together she said, “I’m not fertile. I want to make love.”

I knew she meant have intercourse, and it freaked me out, though I’m not sure of all the reasons why. The danger of pregnancy, basal body temperature not withstanding, was part of my fear, but I think, psychologically, I wasn’t ready, even at eighteen.

I said something like “You should save it until we’re married.” I think I was thinking of her welfare—in case we broke up—as unlikely as that seemed at the time. I had an inexperienced and immature view of women, virginity, marriage, and sexuality. That changed about a year later, but that night I chose not to get laid.

We went to different colleges, and our relationship became one of those ill-advised long distance relationships. The next time I saw her, a few months later, she told me she fell in love with someone else, a med student about to become a doctor. She said they were going to get married. I had a horrible flash of jealousy, imagining them screwing. I wondered if she was still a virgin. I wondered if she dumped me, for him, because I turned her down.

Nevertheless, I did something that was kind, and I’m proud of it, though it was also self-serving. She was crying, and I was numb, but I said, “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I believed that, and I was trying to comfort her. I didn’t think she tried to fall in love with someone else, and I really didn’t think she fell in love to get laid. Falling in love just happened, I thought, as falling in love does. And, she was brave and waited to tell me in person, rather than send me a dear Matt letter or call me on the phone.

What I said was kind but also self-serving, because I wanted her to think of me as the nice man I was and am. I wanted her to remember me that way, so when her sanctimonious prick of a doctor divorced her for a new cookie and left her with a couple of kids and no alimony she’d know she made a terrible mistake.

I don’t know what happened to her. I don’t know if she married the guy, and therefore I don’t know if he divorced her, but that’s what I like to think happened. Not really. In reality I don’t wish her ill, just in my fantasies. I still hurt.

Then, what bothered me most was being in love and getting dumped. Now, what bothers me most is that I never fucked her. If I hadn’t said No then at least I’d know she remembers me. She’d remember me as her first. At least I’d have that part of her.

P.S. Don’t feel sorry for me, if you’re so inclined. I have a wonderful family. My life worked out great.

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