Wow, it's been awhile. 2009 has come to a close, and 2010 has been ushered in. It's been a couple days over a year since I had my first outbreak. If the first year is the worst (physically and hopefully emotionally), I have nowhere to go but up.
Unfortunately, the first few hours of 2010 are not the best representation of how I want this year to go.
To ring in the new year, I decided to go to my (relatively small) hometown to hang out with some friends I hadn't seen in years. I also ran into a guy who I had a crush on in high school (actually, I was hoping to run into him as I heard he hangs out at the bar I was going to that night), and we got to talking. Lots of talking. He looked great (according to me), I looked great (according to him), and we kissed at midnight. There was even talk of him coming to visit me (little did I know how drunk he was at the time).
Because he was extremely drunk, he faded shortly after midnight. Since I was able to, I offered to drive him home. We wanted to talk more, so I went in (don't judge, I KNEW we weren't going to be doing the horizontal mambo). He REALLY wasn't feeling good, and ended up vomiting. Hot, I know. He did want some cuddles (he really is adorable, and always has been), so I laid down with him for awhile. He knew he wasn't feeling good, and wanted cuddles, but also suggested getting together the following day to really hang out.
Whoops, he didn't just want cuddles, he wanted more. Of course, I wasn't ready to tell him my secret just yet (because I'm sorry, you HAVE to if you want to sleep with someone), but I didn't want to leave because I figured it was the alcohol talking. I really had it in my head that he was a good guy.
Somehow we got to talking about life and sex, and he point-blank asked me if I had herpes. Because I always had a crush on him, and did care about him (and hoped we could start something), I couldn't lie. Wouldn't lie.
He was taken aback at first. I asked him if he had ever met anyone with it, and he said no. I pointed out that it was most likely that someone had never told him before. He didn't freak out right that second, and asked good questions. He said that he wanted to do some "research," which I took as a sign that he wanted to see me again, but needed to adjust to the situation. I left that night, but asked him if he still wanted to hang out the next day. He said yes, and then said he'd call me or I could call him.
I called him. He didn't answer (he may have actually silenced the phone before all the rings went through). I left a message. He didn't call me back. He left for a vacation out of the country the next day.
What does this teach me? Yes, telling someone is hard. Although I thought that he'd be different, it just reiterates that I don't want him in my life. It still hurts, but I'll survive.
I promise.
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