When I was 18-years-old, I landed my first legit girlfriend. I say “legit” because I had dated before, but never started a relationship. Tara was one year older than me at 19 and played tennis at a small college three hours outside our hometown. We had been friends for a year or two and then one day we were like, “Hm. Maybe we should fuck,” and that was the start of a beautifully dramatic relationship. Tara’s best features were her legs and ass. I suppose it was all the tennis. She had smaller than average tits and a pretty standard face. I DON’T KNOW IF THAT SOUNDS MEAN! It’s not meant to be. Obviously I was attracted to her.
Our one year relationship was a tumultuous one. It was long distance for the most part as she was in college and I was still at home. Admittedly, since I was just an 18-year-old little douche, I was a bit jealous. I thought about all the guys at her college. All the older dudes who were probably more experienced than me. My silly paranoia created a few fights, but I wasn’t the only one adding unnecessary stress to the relationship. Tara had some personality disorder. I’m not going to claim to know the specifics behind it, but her father was a high-functioning alcoholic and her mother was out of the picture. She, understandably, had some issues.