Jurassic Parking Lot
When I was in high school my first boyfriend asked me to take his virginity. Our relationship chiefly consisted of hooking up in the back of his Ford Explorer in parking lots and garages around town, so this was no romantic, candle-lit scene. That night, atop a garage downtown, where the lights glinted from the buildings towering almost eight stories above ground, he asked me to be his first. Since I was still a virgin in both ways that count, I didn’t feel like I could grant his request. We broke up before we ever went all the way, but it wasn’t long after that we both found other parties to make us men.
For some reason I feel like every sexual relationship I have with someone exists within a frozen moment in time that wouldn’t make sense if reintroduced into my current life. Like the mosquitoes trapped in amber, if our past love affairs were extracted and allowed to run amok in our current lives, surely they would wreak more emotional damage than the velicoraptors of Jurassic Park.
Nevertheless, it’s easy to fool ourselves into thinking that if properly cloned these former trysts could flourish in new cities and stages of our development. If timing is everything, then who’s to say that this time it might not work out? Hindsight is 20/20 so we should be able to analyze what went wrong before and do our best to avoid a second extinction. Unfortunately, I would have to say that successfully revitalizing relationships is more the exception than the rule. We’ve all heard stories of high school honeys or study abroad sweethearts reconnecting after college, but for every couple that makes it, at least four are doomed to fail again.
Never was this more evident than in a recent visit with a paramour of mine from college. A year older than me, he sought me out when I was a sophomore, and for two years we would meet sporadically, often months and months between, for hours of conversation and manic, almost tantric hook-ups. Like my first boyfriend, we never went all the way. I wasn’t sure if it was because he had a long-term, older boyfriend or we just never got around to it, I never really cared, because even without sex our passion was like a wild bonfire, more likely to destroy and delight, than provide any practical purpose. When he graduated we called things off, like the good adults we hoped to someday be, but we never lost touch.
A few months ago his long relationship finally ended and so, besides distance, it seemed like every obstacle had been pushed aside. It was decided we’d get together as soon as we could. When the time finally came, we lost ourselves again in conversation and launched into our usual routine, only this time passion gave way to fatigue, and neither of us could really think of a reason why it was so necessary to cross that line we’d drawn so long ago. Even in the wake of possibility and a guilt-free conscience afforded by singleness and adulthood, our connection had been tamped down to a camp-fire: a gentle comfort to warm your hands, and reminisce around, a calming resource we now took pride in keeping under control.
A couple years after I graduated high school, and I was back in my hometown for the holidays, and I couldn’t resist the urge to call my ex. I don’t if I wanted more for him to see how I’d changed or to see how much he had. That night I learned he’d changed quite a bit, but told me me how I’d been the most special guy he’d ever met. I realized how many special people I’d met since him and couldn’t help but just feel sad, for many reasons, but also partly that I hadn’t taken his virginity when he offered; it might have been my chance to share it with someone who truly cared about me.
We didn’t sleep together that night, although I think he may have wanted to, but as we sat in the front seat of my car he still looked like that 18 year old guy to me, the one who first told he loved me, a week after our first date. There was no way I could mutate that pure, puppy love experience of him into just another one night stand.
Most relationships aren’t meant to continue sexually in the future, if you’re lucky you grow to be friends. Even if the temptation persists to finally cross that threshold, just remember: an unfulfilled fantasy is the only insurance from disappointment or the destruction of an island resort by prehistoric creatures.
Originally posted on 8/5/2008 at http://www.homo-neurotic.com/2008/08/05/everybody-does-it-jurassic-parking-lot/
For some reason I feel like every sexual relationship I have with someone exists within a frozen moment in time that wouldn’t make sense if reintroduced into my current life. Like the mosquitoes trapped in amber, if our past love affairs were extracted and allowed to run amok in our current lives, surely they would wreak more emotional damage than the velicoraptors of Jurassic Park.
Nevertheless, it’s easy to fool ourselves into thinking that if properly cloned these former trysts could flourish in new cities and stages of our development. If timing is everything, then who’s to say that this time it might not work out? Hindsight is 20/20 so we should be able to analyze what went wrong before and do our best to avoid a second extinction. Unfortunately, I would have to say that successfully revitalizing relationships is more the exception than the rule. We’ve all heard stories of high school honeys or study abroad sweethearts reconnecting after college, but for every couple that makes it, at least four are doomed to fail again.
Never was this more evident than in a recent visit with a paramour of mine from college. A year older than me, he sought me out when I was a sophomore, and for two years we would meet sporadically, often months and months between, for hours of conversation and manic, almost tantric hook-ups. Like my first boyfriend, we never went all the way. I wasn’t sure if it was because he had a long-term, older boyfriend or we just never got around to it, I never really cared, because even without sex our passion was like a wild bonfire, more likely to destroy and delight, than provide any practical purpose. When he graduated we called things off, like the good adults we hoped to someday be, but we never lost touch.
A few months ago his long relationship finally ended and so, besides distance, it seemed like every obstacle had been pushed aside. It was decided we’d get together as soon as we could. When the time finally came, we lost ourselves again in conversation and launched into our usual routine, only this time passion gave way to fatigue, and neither of us could really think of a reason why it was so necessary to cross that line we’d drawn so long ago. Even in the wake of possibility and a guilt-free conscience afforded by singleness and adulthood, our connection had been tamped down to a camp-fire: a gentle comfort to warm your hands, and reminisce around, a calming resource we now took pride in keeping under control.
A couple years after I graduated high school, and I was back in my hometown for the holidays, and I couldn’t resist the urge to call my ex. I don’t if I wanted more for him to see how I’d changed or to see how much he had. That night I learned he’d changed quite a bit, but told me me how I’d been the most special guy he’d ever met. I realized how many special people I’d met since him and couldn’t help but just feel sad, for many reasons, but also partly that I hadn’t taken his virginity when he offered; it might have been my chance to share it with someone who truly cared about me.
We didn’t sleep together that night, although I think he may have wanted to, but as we sat in the front seat of my car he still looked like that 18 year old guy to me, the one who first told he loved me, a week after our first date. There was no way I could mutate that pure, puppy love experience of him into just another one night stand.
Most relationships aren’t meant to continue sexually in the future, if you’re lucky you grow to be friends. Even if the temptation persists to finally cross that threshold, just remember: an unfulfilled fantasy is the only insurance from disappointment or the destruction of an island resort by prehistoric creatures.
Originally posted on 8/5/2008 at http://www.homo-neurotic.com/2008/08/05/everybody-does-it-jurassic-parking-lot/
posted by B. B. Nichols at
8:57 AM
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