. kinda the years of my life i enjoyed the most, still to this day.He was the forst guy i dressed up for, the first guy i did roleplaying with, the first guy who... just kinda made me comfortable to even talk about sex, and not just the dirty texting part.I was ever so curious about why we feel certain things and how oour kinks and instincts work... and after all these years, i think i can share some thoughts that might help understanding it.It was a weekend in january some 9 years ago. I was raised in a middle western european country, in the suburbs of the capital city. I was with my first boyfriend, and we stayed for a night at one of his more distant relatives house in a small town while the parents were away. I had to lie to my parents that we will have adult company, as they would never let me stay somewhere without being watched over, but... we were all past 18 at that point - we were adults, albeit on the raw and green side of adultness.It is a two story house, my boyfriend's. His sisters hugged me over and over. I stood and tearfully described his unique wonderfulness as a loving husband.When the burial was over I thanked them all for attending, cried a few private tears of my own, and invited, as was expected, everyone back to our recently renovated house for a drink and something to nibble.They came. All of them. Relatives and friends, and hangers-on. People I loved, and some I'd never met. They all wanted to spend time telling me how Neville was delightful/reliable/handsome/clever/funny/intellectual ... I nodded a lot. I was running on automatic, and anyway all the things they said were true.Eventually they'd all downed as much of our booze as they could manage, eaten every snack in the place, and started to leave. Some made plans to catch up with me while they were still in town. Others had planes or trains to catch. Eventually, all but one of them had gone.Then, as I said, I collapsed on the sofa, a wine in my hand, and turned to face Jeremy."Thanks..
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