I lost my virginity to a man who was fantasizing about my best friend. I just didn't know it yet.
The first month with Cain felt like more solid proof that I could be normal. That I could have something uncomplicated and good, something that belonged to me alone.
He'd take me to cheap restaurants off campus, the kind with plastic menus and fluorescent lighting. He'd ask about my classes, my day, actually listen when I answered. He'd hold my hand walking back to my dorm, kiss me goodnight with this careful sweetness that made me feel fragile in a way I'd never been before.
"You're different from other girls," he told me once.
I didn't ask what he meant. I was just grateful to be different in a way that made someone want me.
When he asked if I was ready, two months into dating... I said yes. Not because I particularly wanted to, but because this was what normal couples did. This was what progression looked like. And I wanted so badly to be normal.
