Me and Love (and Sex)

I never had any misconceptions about sex while growing up. I learned about it from my older sister, who did what she was supposed to do when she wanted answers about something: she went to the library, looked it up in the card catalog, and researched it. Nothing but scientific facts for us. As far as love (and sex) went, when I was a teenager, and all through high school, my friends would confide in me about their crushes, their adventures, and their eventual (to me) shocking experiences, and I was always cool, always an available sympathetic ear. I could afford to be detached, because I knew that the whole area of passion had nothing to do with me, and never would. I didn't so much think I was above it, as beyond it. I thought of myself as an anthropologist studying an interesting but hopelessly foreign culture.

What I didn't know was that right under my placid surface was lurking a lake of sensuousness, lust, and an aching to be loved in that way. Although I didn't have a date in high school, or fancy any particular boys, it might have been obvious, because I was busily collecting record albums by romantic, moony singer-songwriters.

When I got to college, there I was, almost eighteen and ready to go off like a time bomb. I didn't really date in college either, but I hung out in groups. One of the people I hung out with was a young man who had immediately gotten my attention the first semester in one of those seminars where we all sat around on the floor, as he was picking apart his sneakers during the class. I don't know why this attracted me to him; it may have been some sort of misfit signal. I had quite a frustrating relationship with this person. I tried to get alone with him, then I took hold of his hand once alone, but could not manage to keep it. I could tell that there was some sort of electricity in the air between us, but any time I got closer, he moved farther away. This puzzling dance culminated one evening with him telling me a story which I later realized was about his recent first sexual experience - with someone else! - and the fact that he was thinking about me all through it. It seemed to upset him when he heard from another woman in our group that I was getting married; a couple of years later, I ran into him and he pretended he didn't know me. I never have been able to figure out why he distanced himself from me at every opportunity, if he were really interested.

In the meantime, I developed an intense crush of a type which might only happen to a nineteen-year-old girl. I fell completely for a voice on the radio, a voice with an English accent and that suave and friendly tone which is a radio announcer's bread and butter. I was carrying around a portable radio and listening between classes. At noon, this particular disc jockey played an hour of oldies-but-goodies and took requests. In my guise as the Kinks Lady of Northport (see "Me and The Kinks), I would call the station from a pay phone in one of the buildings on campus and request Kinks songs during the hour. Pretty soon, he got to know me, as all the other DJs did, and we would have a conversation interrupted by his leaving to put records on. One day, he surprised me by inviting me up to his apartment. I couldn't drive, and so he came to the Quad to pick me up. I stood where I could see him before he saw me, and when I came out, he said, "What a pleasant surprise!" We went to his place and ate bologna sandwiches and talked about England and the Kinks and I don't remember what all else. We even kissed. He had to go back to work, and dropped me back off on campus.

I knew from talking to him that this DJ was five years older than me, and that his wife had recently left him for another woman. I understood that he was in a vulnerable state, and I think he understood that I was. I talked to him many times on the phone while he was on-air; I don't think I had his home number. I don't remember now if I went back to his apartment a second time. But I do know that I relived those moments in my head over and over for years. I remembered every word that we said to each other for years. My mind was completely taken up with this man. If I had known anything about sex, I probably would have lost my virginity to him, but I was still thinking that was for other people. I certainly lost my emotional virginity. I gave my heart and soul with such intensity that I could never go back to being the same person I was before I met him.

My DJ got a job in another state just a few months later, and he had to leave. It just about broke my heart. I had already met my future ex-husband, but when I first went out with him, I told him that I still loved somebody else. I may very well have taken up with John on the rebound, but by the time we got married two and a half years later, I was over my disc jockey and thought I knew John very well.

John was working with the local theater and offered me a ticket to a play. Turns out he had two, and offered the other one to another woman who didn't show up, so I guess I was the lucky winner. We went riding around in his car in the daytime, and to a couple of the famous parties at my sister's house. One thing I liked about John immediately was that he didn't have to go home early for some reason all the time (this had been a common excuse of the guy with the shoes from the seminar). We also would sit in his car, later his truck, and make out and kiss, just like a normal progression for a relationship. I enjoyed this a lot, but I apparently did not realize where it was headed. When John suggested we have sex, I told him I didn't want that kind of a relationship. He pointed out that we had that kind of relationship, and I couldn't argue with that logic. I probably had no desire to, either.

He had rented an apartment, and at first it had no furniture, but we didn't care. I would go there after class, and he'd show up after work, and I'd be so late coming home, and had so much trouble trying to get him to take me home, that I ended up moving in with him. Two years later, when I got out of the University, we got married(see For JWB).

After John ultimately broke my heart, I signed on to Internet dating sites (only free ones), at first just to see what people were on there, because everybody I knew had moved out of town and I didn't know anybody at all to socialize with. I wanted someone to chat with or to go hang out with, anyway. I briefly turned 19 again right after my divorce, and developed a huge crush on a person I met online. He was very interesting to talk to, and knew a lot about music and movies and other popular-cultural things that I could reference. He also had a great sense of humor, and we joked and carried on. I got to meet him once, but it went nowhere. One day, I saw him praising a woman on his profile, and she was raving about him on hers - then he was gone from the site without a word.

My heart would have been broken again by that rude treatment if I had not also by this time been chatting with Joe. I met him on the PlentyOfFish site, where I went by the name Coelacanth. Joe came on and made a reference which let me know that he knew what a coelacanth was - a very sharp hook to drop into the water! We started chatting back and forth with regularity. Joe has a quick mind, a gentle soul and an earthy sense of humor, and he expressed himself in writing very much as he turned out to be in person. I had to ask him if he was ever going to ask me out, or what. We had a memorable first date. I won't go into any more detail since he's a private sort of guy, except to say it's been memorable ever since.