The Man of Many Firsts...

There's always that one guy that you encounter many 'firsts' with:
first kiss
first fondle
first fuck
first fuck that didn't mean anything
first fuck that made you feel alive
that first time you wanted to rip the clothes right off his body
that first time time disappeared and you stayed in bed all day with not a care in the world
that first time you realised that you are sexy just the way you are

Well, I encountered many firsts while travelling the globe, however many of my firsts were with an Israeli man I dated right here in Melbourne.
He was the first guy who made me feel like sex on legs - in MELBOURNE. Now, I'm a firm believer that home has an enormous impact on the way we feel and interact with eachother - and with this man I felt so completely comfortable with who I was and what I was doing.
He was the first guy that cooked me lunch with no expectations of anything to follow.
He was the first guy to convince me that I was able to get away with car sex.
I did.
He was the first guy to really take a fantasy to the point of no return - nothing was too difficult for him.

But my voracious apetite for different flavours got the better of both of us - he moved interstate and I moved on. Besides, I knew I was his rebound girl. He was still in love with his Israeli sweetheart who drove him crazy.

"We can be friends for a long time," he said to me. I hoped that his words would ring true, and I tried so hard to believe him. I nodded and thought about how alike we were - there is still nbody (except for my best friend) who gets me like he did. But he wasn't for me - nor I for him. He was too cocky, a self-assurance that convered a deep void of self-esteem. And I wasn't in the mood for that. Besides, I knew his girlfriend would disapprove of our friendship/relationship once she came back into the scene.

So I dropped him and got on with my life. If it was his diary, he would probably say that I go through men like Kleenex. That's how I wanted him to feel: I didn't need him, and I was a strong independent woman. Missed phonecalls lapsed into months of non-communication.

Then I get one last missed call on my phone during work. And a voicemail message -
"Hi, this is M_____, the Israeli from a month ago... I've been in Melbourne for a week and today is my last day. We said we'd stay in contact, so here's my email address. I wish you the best in everything."

What a surprise! I was just thinking of him - how I missed his hand caressing my neck as we walked along the beach promenade, how he tried to kiss me in the cinema on our first date, how his fingers tapped my thigh to the music as I drove long drives during that summer.

I called him back. He was so odd on the phone - so wooden and restrained. I figured the girlfriend came back to rescue her fallen prince - it turned out I was right.

But, nevertheless, he will always remain my Man of Many Firsts...