Cole In Oscopy

Twelve years ago today I lost my virginity, and twelve days ago the person I lost it to died. He had a cerebral arteriovenous malformation, or less formally a bunch of jumbled veins and arteries in his brain, which ruptured. They operated on him and he never woke up from the post-op coma, dying days later. Mike was the first person I ever loved and made love to. He was the first person I ever held hands with, kissed with an opened mouth, the first to make me feel attractive and desired. It’s hard to process that he no longer exists. That all of that energy and his exuberant personality could just be extinguished. I can’t say for certain, but I often wonder if grief is harder for an atheist.

Looking back I think our relationship was my favorite. Granted it was far from perfect. His ex-boyfriend had graduated early from high school and I was the rebound, which I wasn’t aware of. Neither of us were out at school (although I was out to my mother) so we sneaked around, going on “dates” which were really nothing more than secret makeout sessions in the closet of the Debate Room. Our first time together was as awkward as anyone else’s first time, maneuvering around in a Geo Tracker was certainly not ideal or romantic, but I’ll never forget a moment of it. It ended when I told a friend about us and word got out around the school. Mike denied it and I didn’t. I guess you could say I got left holding the dick. We ended up sleeping together a few time after that, but my heart wasn’t in it. Thus ended my first love.

With my father and Mike both gone I can’t say there’s a man left on the planet that I’ve loved unconditionally. Both broke my heart in totally different ways, but I wouldn’t trade either of them for anything in creation.