I always thought that, after screwing up my first time, my second time would be with a lovely boyfriend who adores me.
Well, I was wrong, very wrong…
or how I like to call you: brother of the guy who almost cheated on his girlfriend with me.
Sleeping with you was a mistake I didn’t intend to make. I was drunk, very drunk but that is no excuse.
It was the night of my graduation, the reason why I had too much to drink. Who doesn’t get messy when they’ve finally finished school? However, I wasn’t in the best place at that time. Quite frankly, I was a mess, not happy with a lot of things and even unhappier with so many others.
That night, too many triggers* were wandering around the great ball room being happy and cheerful, not giving a shit about me. It bothered me because back then all I wanted was to be appreciated and loved. I was young and made my happiness depend on the attention of boys. I just didn’t understand why they didn’t want me. Hence, whenever I was drunk, too drunk, and saw one of them it got messy, very messy.
I’m sorry you stood in the line of fire and got shot.
It’s not that I regret sleeping with you but I probably didn’t do it for the right reasons. To be honest, I still don’t know a hundred per cent why I did it. Maybe it was revenge, maybe my ultimate thought was that it would hurt your brother or at least bother him, that it would give him a taste of his own medicine.
It was wrong of me to think this. It was spiteful and not fair. But you need to understand, I was mad at your brother for a long time. He abandoned me as a friend even though I didn’t do anything wrong.
He was the one who wanted to touch me.
I was the one who stopped him.
I said he’d regret it, that he’d hate me for it.
He couldn’t get over it and stopped being my friend. I didn’t realise that I should have walked away, should have forgotten about him right there and then. He wasn’t worth it, but I’m stubborn and didn’t want to give up that easily. Now I know better.
Please believe me when I say I felt guilty for what I did to you for a long time.
Sometimes I still do.
After all, I’m not sure if your brother was the only reason I took you home. I really can’t say. If I hadn’t fancied you a tiny bit I probably wouldn’t have. I know for certain I was attracted to you that night, maybe it was the alcohol but maybe it wasn’t. I don’t know.
I don’t remember the taxi drive home or how I got undressed. An indicator on how drunk I was. I remember everything else. I remember the sex. I remember how you felt and that, although I was drunk, I enjoyed it. I remember not kicking you out after. And I certainly remember the next morning, talking to you, walking you to the door without it being awkward.
We ended it on a good note.
Only later I found out that you were two years younger than me. It’s not that it matters anymore but it wasn’t ideal either. Somehow, I always go for the younger ones although I’ve always been attracted to older guys.
We never spoke again, and I’m glad about that. For me, the story was over. There wasn’t any desire to repeat things.
All the best,
The girl who messes up sometimes.”
*(guys I fancied but it never worked out)