21

Twenty one.

I met 21 when he was barely 18. He was a little heavier then, not overweight or anything, just baby-faced all around. It was cute. The kind of cute that makes you go, "aww" and pinch their cheeks every time they say "oh yeah, I've drank beer before." I really wouldn't have gone for it then if it weren't for his bad-ass exterior. The kid had a history that made him slightly sexy, like a jail thing or some stunt like that... which was awkward because at the time, he was a total fetus.

Flash forward to 2015, he finally turns 21 and I have this strange dream that he and I were rolling around in the coatroom, grazing in the grass, ripping our clothes off and doin' it on my living room floor. Except it wasn't my living room, it was on the floor of my California beach house on the bearskin rug right in front of a fire place. There was a lot of wine and also like six or seven dogs who unfortunately had to witness it.

Dreams, man. They're crazy.

Anyway, I wasn't going to tell 21 about the dream, because I wanted to keep all humiliation to myself. But I did tell a mutual friend who chuckled - okay, it was definitely more like a giggle - and took it upon himself to tell everyone within earshot. I was a little upset until I found out 21 was curious to know if I wanted to make it a reality.

I didn't.

And then I did.

It happened really quickly and it was kind of weird. One minute I was like, "lol 21 I've already experienced it in my dreams, I don't need it in real life," and then the next I was all, "21, come. over. now."

The first time we hung out alone, we just laid around watching Netflix and talking about our lives. I wanted to skip the self discovery and go straight to the you-discover-me, but I was a little.. nervous. More nervous than I usually am around people I already know. Primarily because he was four years younger than me, and because I didn't know what our friendship could expect from the aftermath.

From there I decided it wasn't going to happen. I didn't need it to happen, I had two other prospects at the time, so what did I need to be fooling around with my 21 year old friend for?

I was fine. I had convinced myself that 21 and I were not a thing and went back to my regularly scheduled life.

It wasn't until a week or two later that flirting and sexual tension rose to an all-time high.

We were at a party and of course, I parked myself next to him on the couch after drinking one too many glasses of wine and a cocktail. We started joking around with one another and soon every conversation became a private one. We left the party with a group of people to listen to a band at a live bar and that's when I'd say I got a little hands-on.

Okay, a lot of hands-on.

Like hands-on in the sense that I took him to a private area of the bar, grabbed onto his man parts and drunkenly tried to dirty talk to him ...which, knowing me, probably came out as a slurred combination of vowels and phrases. "sssseeuuuuvvvahhh doin' it... huzzzaeyuu floor sex haaaaaaahh."

Whatever. He was in.


We got back to my place and when I say "things became a little heated," I absolutely mean it. I'll spare you the details - if you really want an idea, I'm sure there are websites with videos you can watch - but what went down was a blur of insanity.

Now I don't remember about 85% of it, but I remember it feeling something like euphoria. Though 21 year old boys may not have much experience, they seem to understand what they're doing... well, at least this one did.

I wrote it off the next morning as "that thing I drunkenly tried & liked, but probably shouldn't do again because the kids my friend and also I'm 25 and need to be doing this with guys with a 401k and a pension," and went about my business.

I returned to life as I knew it, pretending that night didn't happen, but wanting so badly for it to happen again. And it did. A few times actually, with each time bringing something new and exciting to the table.

I became addicted.

I was addicted to sleeping with a 21 year old. It's super embarrassing for me to admit it now, but I have to tell you once again that it was really good. Like you know how sometimes you hook up with someone and afterward they're like, "wow that was amazing," and you're all, "yeah it wasn't anything to write home about..." - let's just say, after 21, I was pulling out my stationary.

But nothing good in life lasts forever, especially when you're doing the good thing with someone who is making their life plan up as they go.

One day I sent a text saying, "21, hang out later?"

To which I get the response, "We can't anymore."

"Why?"
"Cause I just like being friends. It's easier."

Ok.

I then ask him to hangout as friends later and he says, "he has plans."

This upset me, but why? Why did I have feelings for 21? I don't even have feelings for 25 or 28, even. Actually, I thought I was a sociopath for awhile because I felt nothing toward any of my gentleman callers. I literally would have them take me out for things I needed and then said, "okay well this is the last time I'm talking to you, bye."

21 got different treatment though, and I think that was the harshest realty of it all.

No wait, the harshest reality of it all was after he told me he had plans, he had the audacity to show up at our mutual friends house later that night - the same house I was hanging out at. Don't be a dick, 21. Don't be a dick.

21 and I currently aren't on speaking terms and I just had to suck it up and move on. I mean, I'm obviously still a little salty my "bye you're relevant - okay now you're kind of cute - oh... now you're just plain sexy" crush had to end with ME sending the 3am "SCREW YOU, YOU ARE A HORRIBLE PERSON" text messages and not the other way around, and it totally sucks I lost a friend - but hey, life is what happens when you're busy making plans. This was to be expected.

... And that's my story about 21. Sorry mom.