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Thank you ~Mike~

Cotton, cotton, cotton… my hand explored the bumps of the bed in the darkness of the bedroom, looking for Michael’s body but only meeting the soft fabric of the sheets. I rolled my body expecting to bump into his but found his spot empty. I laid there for a moment, eyes opened. I could guess the outlines of the furniture, the blind from the window was slightly raised so tiny holes of light dotted it and appeared in the room at various places. I let myself wander from thought to thought, inhaling the musky scent from my boyfriend.

Michael and I had been dating for a little more than a month and sex had never been put on the table but I guess it was mostly because of me. I had never had sex before. With anyone. Michael was not my first boyfriend, I had made any promise to remain pure for my husband, it just never happened…

Thinking about it, my family probably didn’t help. My father never ever spoke a word about sex and my mother was a shy overly-conservative woman who never told me anything besides birds and bees. I can remember having my periods for the first time and her speech on me being ready to procreate, making the whole thing even more awkward than it already was. Not a year later, she had taken me to her gynecologist because I suffered painful cramps and he put me on the pill. She made a point of honor of making clear it did not in any way mean I could have sex. The annual visit at the gynecologist was the day of the year I dreaded the most, my mother would come with me and answer on my behalf. Do you smoke? No she doesn’t. Are you sexually active? Of course she’s not! I did not smoke, nor was I ‘sexually active’ but either way I wish she would just leave me alone with the doctor. But I never dared to tell her anything…

Whenever I had a schoolmate coming over, she would embarrass me by making me keep my door open, and she very rarely let me go to other people’s places. One day when I was about sixteen, I went shopping with friends, and there was a sale at Victoria’s Secret. I had gotten 5 cute panties, in bright colors with lace. When my mom had found about them she went mad, asking me what the hell was wrong with the plain cotton black or white underwear she usually got me from the supermarket. I ended up ashamed, not sure about what but ashamed anyway. The day I left home for college was a blessing, I had never fully understood how invasive she was and how much I despised it. I loved my mother really, but time had come for us to give each other space if we wanted to keep the relation healthy.  Now was different. I wasn’t under her influence and judgment on a constant basis, I could be whoever I wanted. My mother’s little daughter had never been to a party but Y/N was different and determined to make the most of her new life.

Michael and I had met in a bar in town, he was there with his band to play and I was instantly driven to him. The good little suburban girl in me fascinated at his wild hair, and provocative attitude. I played guitar as well and had gone admire his Fender when he had left it near the small stage so he could grab a beer. When he had gotten back we had started talking music, exchanging numbers, texting, meeting again, then again, and again, kissing, kissing more, kissing again. I slept at his place often but whenever things grew quite heated I would panic and turn him down. Michael was a kind person, perhaps the kindest person I had the honor to know despite what his appearance could make people think. But he would not wait forever. Part of me wanted him to be the one, because never before had anyone showed me so much care and respect and I had this unexplainable feeling he was right. I didn’t matter if this was going nowhere in particular, we lived day by day never thinking about the next one.

Michael eventually got back, pulling me from my thoughts, walking in slow quiet steps a mug of steaming cocoa in his hand and slouched to his side of the bed.

"Oh hey, I’m sorry I woke you up…" Michael mumbled reaching for a lock of my hair, brushing it behind my ear tenderly.

He looked down at his mug for a second too long, making my eyes shoot to it too : it was blue, with a crazy Stitch on it. I smiled. Everyone thought he was so punk rock when I knew he was just a big kid in skinny jeans.