I have never felt more beautiful than I have in the last two days. Never. Not in all my life. These two days have surpassed all my hopes and dreams and I wonder if I can ever find something better. If I ever want to find better days than those. We all went to the beach together and I was treated like a woman, not their guyfriend. They loved me and looked at me as though I was a beautiful creature, something untouchable. However true that may be, I was in awe.

We went skinny dipping, and as raunchy as that sounds, it wasn’t. It was almost as if we were in a piece of art. They stared, not in a way to undermine me, but as if they were in shock. I stood stark naked in the water staring up at the harvest moon that ate the darkness from the sky. They kept their distance, aware of my uneasiness, and they respected my wishes without question. I believe they saw me for the first time that night. And when all was said and done, we fell asleep only to wake up in the morning the same people we’d always been. We’re best friends, you see, my boys have always been just that, mine. I didn’t need to be possessive of them, I just needed to love them and I do. I love each one differently and that’s what makes this all so difficult. I could honestly say I am, or have been at one time or another,  in love with each of them.

The hard part? I knew you’d be wondering. I kissed one of them. I kissed him and he kissed me back. And it was nerve-racking. My body shook as I felt his breath on my lips. Honestly, this wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t in the cards. And you’d think that it’d go farther than that after reading about our night, but no. My boy, my respectful, handsome, lovely boy stopped and looked at me in the darkness questioning it all just as much as me. Rather than pursuing something I don’t think either of us had been prepared for, he touched my face and asked if he should excuse himself. I bit my lip and nodded. We didn’t want this, I didn’t want to regret anything in the morning after feeling so beautiful. Had we not been as close as we are, that would have destroyed us. But instead we kept it to ourselves, not mentioning it to the others and continued about our day. You’d think we would have had to force the uneasiness from ourselves, but we didn’t. We were in fact enjoying our secret. We discussed it, said it would never happen again and moved forward. Oh, but I said there was a problem didn’t I? That’s because we ended up in the same spot the night after. And after holding back, we laid on the bed as the sun rose. The conversation is what’s haunting. “I have a question..” his voice trailed. “Okay, what?” “No, it’s awkward, nevermind.” “Don’t be silly, just ask me!” “How many guys have you kissed?” “Three.” “Oh. Three?” “Yes,” I replied, rambling off the names of my black and white boy and another. I stopped, smiling, “And you.” He froze, his heart raced more than it had already been. “But now I get to ask you the same question..” He took in a breath, deciding how he should answer. He glanced at me as I was sprawled across his chest and held up one finger. “Counting you. One.” I shuddered. Had I really been so awful? So blind as to steal away the one thing I myself had fought so hard to make memorable? I stole his first kiss and I hadn’t even realized it. I’d like to think I had some respect left, but the ride home I spent across the backseat on his lap, our hands intertwined underneath my pillow.

Here’s the kicker, I spent the night at the movies with my something. My something that is very clearly not the boy I’ve been speaking of. But my mind remained on the previous night, my something has lost me and he doesn’t even know it yet. This may ruin everything.

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