Ten Tiny Love Stories

I saw him again,

once.

I was coming out

of a movie theater

and this guy comes

right up to me

and he whispers my name.

And he whispers it like it's just

the two of us in the whole world.

And it scared the sh*t out of me,

I didn't know who he was.

I was with my friends

and Eddie was there,

and he didn't know

what was going on.

And I even let out

this little scream...

it was more like a yelp...

before I realized what was going on,

and it was Martin.

His hair was a bit longer

and a little dirty.

And he hugged me

and made a move to kiss me,

I thought he was trying

to kiss me... kiss me,

so I moved out of the way.

We hugged again

and it was just awkward.

I tried to introduce him

to my friends,

but I was trembling and

couldn't remember their names.

So I just said,

"Martin, these are the guys,

and guys, this is Martin."

He said he'd come in a couple of days...

a couple of days ago...

and he'd been

looking around for me.

He said it with...

he said it

with a bit of reproach,

and I said,

"You know, I'm listed."

And then... I realized

he hadn't changed.

He was just the same.

He was Martin.

In fact, he was even more

like himself...

than I remembered.

And he said that he was leaving

the next day at night,

and could we meet for breakfast.

I said, "Definitely. Call me."

So I wrote down my number

on this ticket and gave it to him.

He said,

"I'll call you at 8:00,"

which is kind of early,

but I didn't say anything.

And as I was

walking away,

I knew it wasn't

going to happen.

He would call,

but I wouldn't be there

because I was going to spend

my first night with Eddie.

I made up my mind

about that.

Eddie... and me.

And what I remember most

was how short Martin looked

when he was walking away.

He has those hunched-over

shoulders

and the long arms

and his hairy hands.

He's got a hairy back too!

When we first had sex,

I remember...

brushing the hairs on his back

with my fingers.

That stayed with me,

that and the smell.

The smell of a man

can stay with you

for at least

two or three days after sex.

That and his breath.

And then,

when you kiss again,

it's this strong feeling

when you recognize the smell.

It's... strange...

and it's delicious.

But with Martin,

it was the hair on his back

that made him sweat,

even when it was cold.

So he always smelled

kind of sweet.

He smelled

like a tangerine.

It used to make me dizzy.

Nobody smells like Martin.

Once upon a time,

there was just...

one person

in the world for me.

He was it.

He was the f***ing world.

His mood was my mood.

Whatever he wanted,

I wanted.

Whatever that was.

He once said to me,

"Say our names."

And I said them...

and I cried.

Time is ruthless,

isn't it?

Eric and I

were both virgins.

And he really pressured me

to sleep with him.

But he just wasn't

going to be it.

He was a good boy and

as handsome as the devil,

but I didn't think

he was the one.

So, when I broke up with him, I already

had Simon waiting in the wings.

With Simon, I had the whole thing

planned out ahead of time.

He didn't know

it was my first time.

He figured that out

as we went along.

I think he was surprised.

It was my present to him

for good behavior.

His mom was away,

so we went to his house.

She was an older woman and

hard of hearing, but she liked me.

It hurt, of course,

but you can tell right away

you'll get into it.

While we were making out,

I kept thinking

about what was coming up.

I wasn't thinking

about him, or about us,

I was thinking about myself.

Then we stopped kissing

and took off our clothes,

and just lay there, naked,

in front of each other,

holding hands.

And then he touched my breasts

with the back of his fingers,

and I'll never forget

the way he looked at them.

It was like a baby

playing with your face.

I don't know how else

to describe it.

I was barely breathing.

I liked that.

The look on that boy's face

looking at my breasts

is the best sexual memory

of my life.

When he started to get

inside me, it was tough.

It took forever.

Once, he stopped and

asked me if I was all right.

My eyes were closed,

and I said I was,

and we should go on.

I opened my eyes

and I looked at him.

He was like a complete

stranger for a moment.

He looked like a boy,

a little boy.

He was already covered

in tiny drops of sweat.

And he smelled a little,

but I liked it.

He smelled sour.

When he got all the way in,

I asked him to stop

and I tried to relax

to make the pain go away.

I couldn't find a comfortable

position for my legs,

so I kept shifting around.

Then he started

to move in and out slowly,

and...

I thought, " This is it.

It's really happening."

It was so weird...

it still hurt,

but it also started to feel good.

And the weirdest thing was

I felt like I wasn't there.

I was there, but I was also

looking from the outside.

You know what I mean?

I don't know how to explain.

It's like when you cut yourself

and stare at the wound.

It fascinates you and you pick

at the scab even if it hurts.

It's like watching yourself bleeding.

I was there, watching,

as I did

this very strange thing.

And that strange feeling,

having a living thing inside of you.

I remember wondering if

being pregnant felt like that.

After a while,

he stopped again

and wanted to make sure

I was all right. I said I was.

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