There we were, stranded, frozen in time. It was dark, the air was thick,  and I could feel his weight on me. The outer lights on the hallway lined the edge of the doorway, letting just a small enough amount in. His bed was in the middle, not specifically a design choice I would’ve selected, but certainly one that works well enough for his room. His trophies were all set up on a shelf above his TV, looking down upon anyone who comes in as if to say ‘Look how much junk I’ve won’. The thumps from the loudspeaker could be heard below, they were faint though. I heard them louder when the door was a split-second open, later shut and locked.

I pulled away for a second, looking into his eyes. His expression was somber. It’s as if the fearless masculine man I had known for the past three months was suddenly afraid, vulnerable to me. Except, no, he wasn’t. I know those eyes. Not his eyes in particular, but those eyes. He wasn’t afraid of me, or himself, or what entailed here on out, no, he felt pity—for me.

“Everything okay?” he whispered, gently.

“Yeah, it’s just,” I replied, with all I could muster.

In fact, it wasn’t the fact that he felt pity for me, the truth? I was the one that feared what entailed. Part of me wanted it to be over. Part of me wanted it to be tomorrow morning. But part of me also wanted this.

No. You don’t want this. Unless you do? What will he say? What if he finds out? Will he be disappointed? No, he can’t be. You already failed at the first kiss a month ago.

It was a friday afternoon, we walked back from the exit to the store down at the corner.

“Ayo what’s good Camilo? Can you ring me up with a coke and some gum?” He greeted Camilo, an old man in his fifties that had been working in that store for longer than I had been alive.

“For sure man! Anything for the young lady?” Camilo responded, gesturing towards me.

He also looked down on me, waiting for my response, to which I simply shrugged. Afternoons like those didn’t truly make me hungry, it just made me want to see him again. On several occasions I starved myself so that my breath didn’t smell bad, in case he did decide to kiss me.

He paid, and we left for a local park nearby. It couldn’t have been more than a five minute walk. There we sat down, him enjoying his purchases, and me looking onwards to the grass upfront. It was then that I decided to kiss him, screw the usual norms of a man kissing a girl. At one point he was in my arms, he was a bit heavy, and I looked down on him, my body burning. I closed my eyes and quickly went in but missed, a simple peck on the cheek which I tried to brush off, but he knew. He later reciprocated the gesture, and that went down as my first kiss.

He is more experienced than you. He knows how to do all this. Just let him do his thing. Don’t worry about it. It will be over soon.

            But, do I really want my first time to be with him? What if something happens; what if we break up? Will I forever be marked with this? A relationship that lasted up until you finally revealed how vulnerable you are?

            It was at certain times where I wondered whether I truly did love him, or if it was just some want to get it all over with. To finally have a boyfriend, to finally kiss someone, to finally have someone that loves you. The first time I heard that he had cheated on one of his previous girlfriends, I remember myself not being fazed by it. It’s not that I didn’t feel sad, it’s just that it wasn’t something that I saw myself affected by. On another occasion, I remember we were at lunch, and some guy fell with his tray in front of us, and he later, “jokingly”, told who I can only assume to be his girlfriend to “Clean it up”. He laughed, but of course later assured me “I would never make a joke like that”.

It’s been three months. Three. Do you really think he loves you? Or is that just some disillusioned image you have in your head? You know how he acts among his friends. You know exactly how they’ll react.

            “Bro, that’s awesome congrats on banging that chick!”

            “How was it dude? How loose was she?”

            “Was she hot without clothes? Please tell me she was hot.”

            That’s all you are to them, and in the end they leave some unmarked review for others to see whether you’re worth trying out or not.

            But he isn’t like that. I hope so. He cares for me, I know he does.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I understand,”

And so, there we were, stranded, frozen in time. Whether I chose to say yes or no would completely change the outcome of today, and tomorrow, and every day thereafter. There is no going back after this. There are no regrets. I opened my mouth, my body burning like before, the two words were on my tongue. There was nothing to it, than to say it.