Before I met Xavier, I was an entirely different person. If the person I am now met the person I was over two years ago, I doubt she and I would be friends. Actually, I believe the person I was would avoid… me. If that makes sense.

She went to church a lot. At one point she went every Wednesday, Saturday and for two services on Sunday. She really considered herself to be a strong (almost pious) christian. She sang in the church, attended bible study every week, traveled to other church-related events, joined the pastor and his family for dinner and helped set up for the apostle the next day… Outside of church, she worshiped during chores and prayed.

This girl of the past would internally look down on users of drugs and tobacco and those vulnerable to alcohol. She thought the mere taste of liquor as revolting and the smell of smoke as abominable. And sex? She waited for marriage despite her longing for such an act of intimacy. For she was trying to build a relationship with God, to gain access to the temple and lust or any of said deeds were simply… not the way.

But she wasn’t perfect in her journey, no. She’d made many mistakes (including one major one that I’ll share another time) in her few years of high school. The young girl experimented and learned more about herself – about who she was and who she didn’t want to be. For the duration of her stumbling through life, she still looked to the sky and the world with a gleam in her eye… holding on to puny strings that barely retained her from falling into the dark pit of self-destruction.

Then she bumped into Xavier in the halls of school one day.  She was rushing to get an item from the principal’s office at the very end of the day – afraid to miss her bus home – when X stepped out of his classroom concurrently with the school bell. She’d dropped her belongings in her urgency and as she scrambled to gather them on the floor and other students stepped around the scene, Xavier was the one to kneel down and provide the first of what would be many aids. He’d held a yellow flower that, to her, symbolized a subtle but  bright message.

They didn’t talk for a few months after that initial coincidence. This was because they both looked for futures in other people. Then on the following summer of 2014, Xavier reached out and the timing seemed perfect. They talked all the time… mostly on the phone.

Now how does a Christian fall for an Atheist?

For a split second she loses sight of her own faith.

It went from “As long as you don’t disrespect what I believe, we should be fine…”

To, “Do I believe in God because I believe in God or because I was raised to?”

Then she became open-minded and her former beliefs didn’t disappear, but moved to make room for other ideals. Those former convictions stepped aside for me.

I’d never been more attracted to/fallen so swiftly in love with/wanted to desperately be with any other man before… I knew he wanted to take me far away from my depression and that he genuinely cared for me. And every night that we talked on the phone, I yearned for Xavier in ways that I’d never regarded before. In spite of the separation of my father’s house, we imagined laying with each other and we talked about anything and everything all night long. Even over the phone, he introduced me to music that I’d never before listened to, he let me listen to TV that I couldn’t’ watch, we learned from each other… we had “phone sex” and couldn’t wait to see each other at school the next day.

On October 13 of of 2014, an odd Monday that we had off of school, I went over X’s house for a permitted few hours. I think he planned this because it all happened a little too smoothly despite his claims of spontaneity. Over the phone, he’d been telling me the wonders of baby oil and on this day, he wanted to show me in person with a massage. And he cherished my body using only his hands until I was relaxed from head to toe – such attention I’d never before experienced. Then his mother suggested we get inside the hot tub being that it was never used. And when we did, it was a calm, enjoyable time. Afterwards, we went to the basement to dry and while he went to grab a towel for himself, I turned to the large mirror that was posted against the wall. My body was enriched with a glow that, despite the uncomfortable bathing suit, made me feel beautiful.  I was delighted in this new self realization and so I cut on some music and began to sing and dance all by myself. I will never forget what happened next.

The next song came on and it was unexpectedly slow, so I shifted my dancing to match it:

…And he appeared behind me in the mirror so smoothly that when he joined in my swaying, our coalescence felt absolutely effortless… And that was the first time we danced together.

Losing my virginity was not as smooth, however. We hurt (in fact, he hurt a lot more than me.) And we were cut short by my father’s time restriction – which his mother and him followed respectfully to the tee.

But there was an intangible preciousness to the moment. And he was so meticulous and cautious with it, I remember feeling a certain.. euphoria after we stopped. When he kissed me and whispered the promise of never leaving, I was filled with such a celestial sensation that has yet to be duplicated.

The picture we took after dancing and before consummating.

The picture we took after dancing and before consummating.

To be continued…

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