un histoire: partie deux

One month into the relationship we were hanging out at school killing time before Band rehearsal. We walked to McDonald’s together to fill our bellies–heh–it was our first date together. We began to talk about sex somehow, and she asked me whether that was what I wanted from her. “I guess,” I told her, “I would if we got that close.” But like I said before, that was not the first thing on my mind.

A freshman in high school and still a virgin, I had not grown accustomed to sleeping with girls I dated. By this point in our relationship, I liked her too much anyway to consider her unworthy of my time because she would not fulfill some vague desire of mine I didn’t even know I had yet. In short, I didn’t break up with her then and there because I loved her too much already. I could live without the possibility of sex if it meant I could still be around her.

In the following months I began to realize some problem areas in my life. When I was with her, the world was a great place. People weren’t such a problem to me when she was around–namely my mother and my little brother. When we parted ways, however, things were different. Why did she give me the power to be able to control my anger? Why did my family only deserve to be treated fairly when she was watching? I grew sick of my hipocracy quite soon. Kimberly helped me realize the importance of family by showing me that they deserve to be treated well by me.

You might not call this one a problem since my age and my gender were the perfect conditions to invite this syndrome. I felt, at the age of 14, that I hated little children. I couldn’t stand their constant crying and sobbing when they didn’t get their way. Kimberly’s age and gender proved to be quite oppositely predisposed. Whenever she saw a baby, she would say, “Awwwwww. I want one!” Whenever she hung around little kids she got them to laugh at her…kids seemed to love her in return.

One day at work, ironically in a day care center job I landed through my mother’s church contacts, I was cleaning some windows when a rowdy bunch of eight-year-olds ambushed me. They wanted to play. Uhhhhhh… well, I didn’t know how to react at first, so I just tried to shrug them off without hurting any feelings. They came back. I threatened to squirt them with the window cleaner. They returned once more. This time I found myself playing, telling jokes and even hoping to win their approval. They loved me! Hey, anyone who laughs at me is a friend of mine! So Kimberly’s example opened up my eyes and I began to love children.

December rolled around quickly. (We got together officially in October.) Two months into this thing, I had already learned how to treat my family better, how to love children, and conversations between us every now and then about sex caused something to begin brewing deep inside of me. I didn’t know what it was yet, but I came one step closer to finding out what it was one day in Lenox Mall outside of Victoria’s Secret…