I met my husband when I was 13 years old, he was 15. I instantly wanted to be his girlfriend but he wanted to be friends. We became the best of friends. He opened up to me about his disfunctional childhood and his hatred for his mother. You see he had just moved out of his mother’s house (from another city) to live with his dad and stepmom. It’s a long story but even after all these years he consistently says he had such a deep hatred towards his mother that it made him untrustworthy of girls and intimidated to date them. However he was close to me and I basically threw myself at him. Ha! We dated a few months my freshman year of high school, he broke up with me and I was miserable. Our high school years were interesting because we dated on and off ( mostly off) but we stayed the best of friends. There were 2 times we tried to have sex but shortly after we started he would pull away and run to the bathroom and come back to say that he couldn’t keep his erection due to being high on pot or alcohol. Yes, we weren’t the most innocent teenagers.

By the end of my senior year, he had moved to another state because he was making such bad choices so his family kicked him out and told him to live with his grandmother. (On a side note, I had met his mother one weekend after 6 years of knowing him and she told me she thought he was gay). My parents let me visit him in Florida after graduating HS and we had a great visit. His grandmother on this visit also told me she thought he was gay. By then he had admitted to me that he was confused about his sexuality and thought he might be gay but wasn’t sure. This was the mid 90’s and we didn’t know anyone openly gay our age, or anything about being bisexual.

I moved ro another city my junior year of college and was in a relationship. My husband found himself moving to the same city that same summer and we were both so excited to be reunited. Again we were the best of friends. Over a year or so, I had broken up with m