text: This is a real story. The community doorbell rang, I beeped her through the automatic gates and went to the mirror. Sprinkled a little bit of cologne. The hair was in order. The computer was shut down. I didn’t queue to play that next game. I knew she was close and I wanted to be ready. I didn’t want to look like a nerd. It was close to 8 am. I could hear my heartbeat pounding. There was a knock at my apartment door. I placed my hand on the knob, and I turned it. \ She had been one of my first crushes from when I was a kid, she had grown to be a beautiful woman 8 years after I first fell in love with that long black hair of hers. All the way back to elementary I was already a loser for brunettes, raven hair and petites. She happened to fall under all of those categories. I don’t think I’ve ever been that unconditionally in love. She and I have a complicated story. She was cruel. She still is, for all that I know. I only see that after all the mess, before, I thought all girls were like that. She pulled off some pretty shady stuff when we were in the first year of high school. The best example of this: She asked my best friend out. She knew how I felt about her, I hardly ever try to hide my feelings about women. When he said no, she immediately afterwards asked me. I didn’t find out until I told him the good news. I was 11 and I remember how much it hurt. I remember how angry and confused I was. It seems so silly because now, in my mid-twenties, it’s easier for me to rationalise things. Back then it felt like someone was ripping my guts from the inside, pulling them out. She apologised later. I quickly tried to look past that experience. I wanted to forget about that afternoon, and how much I cried. As I said, I thought it was a normal thing. “Teenagers”, both boys and girls can come up with some silly shite. I left the country in the second year of high school, few months after that incident. Nothing ever happened between us two. We left it off as friends. We kept in touch, and we kept our friendship, up until the point that I came back to study my university degree. But more on that later. In the summers between my 13th and 17th birthdays, I would come back home, to see family and friends. We would hang out. It was a joy to see my friends. People that spoke my language and understood my culture. Sometimes, she and I met alone. One of the times we met kind of set the mood for our entire relationship. I had a Jacuzzi at home. People in my school thought that was funny and posh. I grew up in that apartment, for 13 years I saw nothing else, so I thought it was normal. She liked that Jacuzzi. She said it a few times over the two decades that we’ve known each other for. When I was 16, she asked me if she could take a bath there. I was a flirt and I told her that she could, of course, but that I would find it a great privilege if I could join her. It wasn’t a very big Jacuzzi. We both could barely fit it at the same time. She was fully aware of that. She looked at me with those huge dark eyes of her, framed by that pale skin... She laughed and said that she wouldn’t have it any other way. We set a date. I was hosting more people at my place then, I wasn’t just going to say. “Well chaps, we’re off to the Jacuzzi, don’t make too much noise! Would ya?” \ My heavy door swung open, she was there, on her own, gorgeous as ever. It was summer and she was light in clothing. We said hi, hugged, and I invited her in. She liked my perfume. We changed into our swimming suits. I got in the Jacuzzi first, made sure that the water wasn’t too hot. I gave her some space so that she could lay back on the other side of the Jacuzzi. She didn’t. She sat right between my legs. At this point, you might think that I was in some sort of personal heaven. That wasn’t quite the case, believe me. I have a sharp tongue and I make witty, dangerously funny comments. I take pride in starting interesting conversations. I can now confidently say, that part of me evaporates as soon as there is a woman I care about, light in clothing, sitting in between my legs. So... it ended up being rather awkward. We played with the bubbles and talked a bit. There were some uncomfortable silences. I hate those. I decided that I would take a chance. I was going to try to kiss her. I made a move, pretending that I was going for the tap: “Let me try to get some cold water into the tub. It’s getting quite hot in here.” “Yea, it is, and you better keep you cool, Loud.” Ouch. If there’s something my mother and father have taught me well, is to respect women. I would be horribly ashamed to do something to a girl that she wouldn’t want me to do to her. I took this as a clear sign to back off. I didn’t want to risk it at all. Better be boring than pushy. I did pour some cold water into that bath, and I did cool down. Nothing happened, and in all honesty, it puzzled me, but it didn’t bother me. I’ve only wanted as much from a woman as she was willing to give me. Not one caress more. We dressed, hugged goodbye and agreed to do this more often. Funny that. Later, when I was alone in that house. What bothered me was the question. The question that you might be having right now. Why would she join me in a Jacuzzi, with very little clothing if she wasn’t remotely interested in anything else? Maybe she was, and when she got in the Jacuzzi with me she changed her mind. She had her right to. The fact that she got into that Jacuzzi with me didn’t mean that I suddenly had rights to do whatever I wanted. I know that. I just wouldn’t get into a compromised position like that with another woman if I don’t have clear intentions. The question ate at me. It wasn’t like the hand gripping at my guts. It was worse because I didn’t know what to make of it. Did she like me? Did she not? Was she just playing me? That ate at me for a few more years. In the meantime, nothing happened between us. At 18, I moved back home. Started my IT degree. Made more friends. Organised more parties while my parents were out. Had some decent fun. Met more women. Some were good to me, some weren’t. She would come to some of these parties. At one point, she stopped broke up with the bloke she was dating, and we started flirting again. Bad idea Loud. At my 19th summer, she wanted to come over again. She was going to go to this big party and didn’t want to sleep home because her parents would freak out. She said we could meet up and have some fun. It had been too long, she said. It shames me to say that I invited her over again. To me, it made sense, as I was hosting a LAN party that very night. Some of my best friends would be playing all night, having pizza and not sleeping at all. I organised everything so that they would be out before she was there. We would grab breakfast, maybe watch some stand-up comedy and then sleep a bit. That was the plan. \ My heavy door opened, my heart was still pounding. I could still hear it in my ears. The door swung open. There she was. Gorgeous as ever. Accompanied by a dude. She hugged me. Didn’t mention my perfume this time. She said his name. I tried not to look as confused as I was. I was a good host. I let them both in. Told them I was only expecting her. She said that he went with her to the party. He also needed a place to sleep. So, my house was some sort of hotel for her, it seemed. I told the guy he could sleep in my sister’s room, and that she could take the large bedroom in mine. “It’s okay Loud. We’ll share the room.” They went into my room. They closed the door behind. I must have stared at that door, the door to my room, for something like 10 minutes. It was the hand in the guts and the question all over again. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to play some video games to take my mind off the surge of thoughts that it was currently undergoing. I felt alone. Hunter was one of my close friends. He had been at the LAN party that night. He was probably home, trying to get some sleep. He is one loyal man. He and I have gotten into arguments before, and I don’t agree with some of his life choices, but he is one loyal lad and a good friend. I called him. He picked up the phone immediately, even though we both hadn’t slept at all because of all the games we had played. He asked me what I was doing on the phone, I should be with her. I explained to him what happened. He was freaking out. I told him that I didn’t want to be alone. He was at my place 10 minutes later. We gamed until 11 am, which was when my bedroom door opened. They both came out looking okay. Dressed. My room didn’t smell like sex. At least I didn’t think it did. They drank my coffee, they ate my bread. He was interested in the game Hunter and I were playing. I didn’t even bother looking at them. They thanked me and left. Hunter and I kept playing until lunch. I thanked Hunter for coming. Gave him a hug. He left. I immediately went to my room, picked my sheets off the bed, placed them in a bag. A few moments later, I was placing that bag in the donation box. \ She tried to meet up after that. We even had a conversation about that night. Not worth including here I’m afraid. I never hung out with her after that, on a friendly context or otherwise. We ran into each other from time to time, said hi, and then said bye. I will never forget that moment. Not how she played me for the last time, nor how a brother came to me in one of the worst times I’ve ever had. \ If you've reached this far, thank you for taking the time to have a read. I really appreciate any feedback. English isn't my first language, so if I've gotten anything wrong. Do let me know. Once again, thanks.