The Black Belt

Numero Uno. The Black Belt. Although truth be told he didn’t have a black belt at the time, he was a few grades below, but “blue belt” or “brown belt” or whatever it was doesn’t sound nearly as impressive. But I digress… (I do that a lot)

The Black Belt and I lost our virginity together at the sweet age of sixteen, on his bedroom floor, to the dulcet tones of Marilyn Manson’s cover of “Tainted Love”. Musical perfection. My own perfectionist nature burnt that CD with care so that Tainted Love was track number three, I accurately predicted that nerves and inexperience would last the first two songs before everything kicked off at track three. I can now proudly answer the “what song did you lose your virginity too” with pride, because honestly, Mr. Manson’s Tainted Love is just too perfect to be true.

The Black Belt and I dated for quite a few years, four in fact, my one of only two long term relationships. We did all the stupid things kids usually do, which was try everything. We muddled our way through things that you honestly couldn’t pay me to do again, and when I think back to some of our more…let us call them juvenille…antics, I shudder. Was I ever really that young that I thought that drinking orange juice out of someone elses mouth was an attractive and alluring thing to do? Yes. Yes I was.

For all our silliness, we had some wonderful times. And rip roaring fights, but who gives a shit about that. The Black Belt was the perfect first boyfriend, we experiemented, it was fun, and we moved on. NEXT!

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