Sem-Com #2: Dalton

I hesitate to classify him as a Semi-Committed relationship, but that is the closest category he relates to.

Oh, Dalton.

I guess I’ll start off by saying that Dalton is the very first boy that I slept with.  Yes, Dalton took my virginity.  I am 99.9% sure that I took his, too.  Although, we both lied about it if this is the case.

Dalton and I also went to high school together.  We ran in very different circles and never interacted with each other during that time.  In fact, it wasn’t until our sophomore year in college that we even really spoke to each other for the first time.

We both moved into The Apartments around the same time.  I know because he was signing paperwork when I came to take a tour. We were both freshmen in a strange new college world, far from our home state.  I remember thinking that we should get together some time.  If for no other reason than we needed friends.

That didn’t happen until sophomore year (of college).  Somehow, he ended up getting my number and we began texting back and forth.  After a few weeks of that, he asked me if I wanted to hang out sometime.  I was interested, so I said yes.

Our first official date was getting ice cream and walking around a local park.  I was surprised at how easily our conversation came.  I had expected it to be awkward, since all of our communication hitherto had been via text, but it wasn’t.  But I remained skeptical.

You see, Dalton had a bit of reputation.  From my friends and peers in high school, I learned that Dalton liked to fool around with girls, use them until he grew tired, and then leave them in a complicated mess.  I had no desire to be tossed aside after being used.  I guess now would be a good time to bring up the fact that this had happened to two of my very good friends in high school.  Remember how I said that I didn’t have very many really great friends?  Well, two out of the five had a bad experience with him.

So, I enjoyed his company, enjoyed being with him, but remained somewhat distant.

After this date, we fell back into our texting ways, without any real interaction.  A few weeks later, I invited him over to watch some movies with me and my roommates.  He showed up.  I was surprised.  This happened a few times.  One of us would invite the other over for some random activity.  Sometimes we’d go, sometimes we wouldn’t. 

It became pretty clear that we had chemistry.  A lot of people assumed we were dating because of how we acted around each other.  I would like to make clear, that at this point, we had no physical contact outside of normal social interactions.  But oh, did we flirt.

One night, we rented out The Apartments small movie theater.  My roommates came, and they all had their boy toys.  So, I invited Dalton.  I remember, I had a really nasty cold at the time.  This didn’t seem off-putting to him at all.   The movie theater had huge beanbags and assorted couches in place of normal seating.  Dalton and I ended up on one of the bean bags.  This is where we had our very first kiss and make out session.  Why he chose to do it when I was sicker than a dog, was beyond me.  But I won’t complain.   It was a lot of fun.

After that, we started meeting up just to make out.  Don’t get me wrong, I was still super skeptical about him.  I had this feeling that any day now, he was going to get over me and stop contacting me all together, as his past indicated would happen.  So, I enjoyed him while I had him, fully expecting it to come to a sudden stop and have him disappear from my life.  I think this knowledge was what convinced me that Dalton would ultimately be the person that I would sleep with.

I can see how this would be confusing for people.  All in all, Dalton had a dirt bag reputation.  I liked him, but knew he was bad news, so I distanced myself emotionally from all of our interactions.  We had chemistry, and flirted nonstop---can you see why it made sense?  Given that I’ve already explained to you what I was looking for in the guy I would give my virginity to, he fit the bill almost perfectly. 

I would like to take the time to explain that I assumed we were both on the same page with our relationship….if you could call it that.  I thought we both knew exactly what we were getting into.  We had never determined our relationship, extended any boundaries concerning seeing other people or expressed a desire to be exclusive.  I thought we both liked each other enough to flirt and fool around, but not enough to really make something solid.

Apparently, I was wrong in that regard.  Dalton later told me, long after we were over, that he really thought that we were going to end up together. He expressed a lot of frustration over the fact that I did not like him as he had apparently liked me.

I have a lot of guilt associated with Dalton, but not for the reasons you’re probably thinking.  I do not regret sleeping with him.  I do not regret our time together, or the way that we acted.  I do regret that I formed so many opinions of him based on others, and never really, honestly gave him a chance to mean anything to me.  I was so convinced that he would just up and leave me when he was done, that I did not take our relationships seriously.  I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had trusted that he was being genuine.  I think we probably would have ended up in a serious relationship.  That kind of thinking scares me.  But I guess now, I’ll never know.

After we slept together, a lot of things changed. (I know, you are all DYING to hear about losing my virginity.  I promise, it’s the next post.  It deserves its own, and it will get one.  Next time!)  Number one, and I don’t want to give too much away, but I am pretty sure neither of us were honest about our experience with sex prior to our bedroom romp.  Number two, he did not wear a condom, and I was not on birth control (So stupid, I know, I will talk about this more in the next post).  Number three, I was so sure that he would be done with me that I did not talk to him for weeks after we had sex.

Naturally, after you sleep with someone, your relationships changes. We weren’t as flirty as we were before…I guess because we knew we could do what we wanted with each other after that?  Flirting just seemed pointless.  We still had amazing chemistry, and continued ‘fooling around’ on and off throughout our undergrad studies.

This is why I hesitate to name him a sem-com…he was more like a bed buddy.  In between my other relationships, Dalton and I continued to meet up to have sex, or fool around.  It was kind of nice to have someone who was just a text away from showing up and being there for me.

It wasn’t just sex.  I know it sounds that way, but it wasn’t.  We had more in common than I had realized.  We shared more than just the occasional orgasm. (It took me a while to actually HAVE one with him…but more on that later!)

We had some really great conversations…mostly post coitus.  But still.  We’d mess around and then talk far into the morning.  We never actually stayed the night with each other, which was too intimate for me…and remember I was fairly sure this was mainly sexual for both of us.

As previously stated, you will always hold a special place in your life for the one who you give your virginity to.  You can’t help it.  They will always be a part of your life’s journey.  I look back on my time with Dalton with very mixed emotions.  Part guilt, part fondness. 

After all physical aspects of our relationship ended, after a huge fight (which you’ll hear about later) and then a reconciliation some time later, we had a good discussion about everything.  He admitted that he had liked me and wanted more than what we had.  I told him that I was so worried that he was just using me that I didn’t let myself like him more than necessary.  I guess I was so worried about getting played that I ended up being the player.  I did tell him I was sorry about what went down.  I don’t think he was convinced, but we did part on friendly terms at that point.  We later had another falling out…and that was the last I heard of him. 

I wonder if he thinks of me every so often…I’m not sure if I want to know, really.  I hope he is doing well in his life.  I hope he found someone who satisfied him in every aspect and wish him only the best.  He is one of the few relationships I had in which I can truly say that I want him to be happy.  He deserves it.  I was kind of a bitch. 

It’s funny…but I was so convinced that I wanted to have sex for the first time with someone who I didn’t care about, that I don’t think I let myself care about Dalton.  I think it would have been very easy for me to fall in love with him.  Part of me wonders if I did, but suppressed it so I could justify sleeping with him.  Part of me knows I felt more for him than I ever admitted to him or myself.  I do regret not telling him.  But you can’t change the past.

He played a huge role in my life, not only as my first, but as a recurring relationships throughout my undergrad years.  I’ll always have that, if nothing else.

Well…that’s Dalton.  He does show up later, so this isn’t the end of him.  But there’s a quick rundown of my dealings with him.  

Undergrad Housing

I guess now would be as good a time as any to give you a rundown of my living situation during my freshmen, sophomore and junior years of college.  I had a deep fear of the dorms offered as on campus living, having heard numerous horror stories from those who forged before me about sharing showers/bathrooms, and even bedrooms with complete strangers.  I opted for off campus housing, not directly partnered with the school. 

For privacy reasons, I won’t name the apartment complex as it truly is.  For the sake of this blog, it will just be referred to as The Apartments.  Pretty complex, I know.  I chose to live at The Apartments because it was close enough to campus to walk to my classes, but still far enough away from them to allow non-school related functions.

I had a truck.  I actually chose to drive the long trek from Texas to Washington every time I decided to go home in-between semesters.  But walking to and from class in the nicer weather was really the only exercise I got, and I enjoyed it.

The Apartments were co-ed.  But not the co-ed you’re thinking.  They were co-ed in the sense that each apartment was designated for either males or females…but the apartments around you could be either.

Each apartment had six bedrooms, two bathrooms and one large kitchen/dining area adjoining the living room.  So every person had their own bedroom, but shared all the other areas.  There were probably about 8 apartment buildings that made up The Apartments, and each building housed about 20 apartments.  They were huge.  I was in building C, apartment 8. 

Expanding on the co-ed portion of this, to clarify, C8 was a female apartment, but the apartments directly across from ours, above our and under ours were male apartments.  I’m not sure how they staggered it all, or if there was any kind of system involved in the placement of their tenants, but they were really nice, fairly new, and didn't cost your soul to live in.

The thing that I most worried about when I moved in was whether I would absolutely hate the other girls I would be living with.  I don’t think I've mentioned it before, but I tend to run in a very small circle of friends that rarely branches out or accepts new members.  I had the same friends all throughout high school…about 5 total.  Living with a bunch of females, all ranging in age and personality was not something I was looking forward to.

I actually got pretty damn lucky.  Though we had a few girls move in and out throughout the years, we got along with most of them enough to make living with them bearable.  We never had all bedrooms full, so we lovingly turned the first two bedrooms into SMOOSH rooms (think Jersey Shore…). 

The circle of friends I hung out with in college were all my roommates.  I am really grateful that it turned out the way it had, because I don’t imagine I would have made very many friends otherwise. 

So I was assigned the 3^rd bedroom, which I was okay with.  For the first year, I didn't share a bathroom with anyone, since the other two girls had the last two rooms.  My two roommates, Cassie and Jessica were awesome.  Jessica moved out after the first semester, but Cassie and I lived together the full 2 ½ years.  We got really close and did absolutely everything together.  It was quite ridiculous. 

As I stated before, we had multiple girls move in and out during that time.  Our sophomore year, we had two girls move in who we did not particularly enjoy.  Renee and Jacqueline. 

Renee was actually still in high school, and a ward of the state.  Why the apartment complex thought it was a good idea to place a high school student, with issues, in with college girls is beyond me.  It really wasn't fair to any of us.  Needless to say, we did not get along.  It was a time of discord for us.  She was messy and dirty and kind of gross.  She brought a baby bottle with her…and displayed it proudly in our kitchen.  Yes, she drank out of it…so weird.  Try explaining that to people who came over.  She was also a bigger girl who had poor hygiene.  She was also a liar and drama queen.  Not the best combination.

Jacqueline was a straight up bitch, who by the end of the first semester of living together, everyone hated.  It didn’t start out that way.  She was a transfer student from another state and was pretty cool starting out.  We all kind of hated on Renee together and had a cordial relationship.  The only issue with her was that she was a stickler for The Apartment rules.  She advocated no drinking, no noise past 10 and no boys staying over. Of course, these rules could only be broken on her terms and no one else’s.  So really, she was fine with bending these rules if it benefited her, but if she was tired, or not feeling up to it, any and all fun was strictly banned after 10 PM.

One night, I think it was a Thursday and Cassie and I’s class had been cancelled the next morning, we decided to start the weekend early.  I won’t say that we were being particularly quiet…but we weren't being super loud either.  We were in the kitchen waiting for a pizza to arrive before heading over to the boys across the hall, some of them were with us.  It was a few minutes after ten.  One of the guys had just finished telling a funny story, and we were all in stitches over it.  Out storms Jacqueline.

She was being rude to our guests and screaming at us that we were being too loud and breaking the noise code.  She was screaming that the boys needed to leave and dropping f-bombs about them getting out and just being a crazy bitch.

I do not stand for that.  So a HUGE fight erupted.  Picture us standing toe to toe, in each other’s faces, both yelling our opinions about the situation.  I told her I was tired of the fickle shit she was pulling.  She needed to get over herself and stop trying to control the world.  She was not our mother.  I still get pretty annoyed when I think about it today.  She was yelling at me down the hall that I was a crazy bitch.  She also kept yelling things like: “I don’t know how you bitches here in Washington do things, but where I’m from this shit does not fly.”

No one ever told her that none of us were actually from Washington. At one point the pizza arrived, and the boys had to physically remove me from the apartment to prevent shit from going down.  I’m not a fighter, usually.  I was just sick of her crap.  She was a bitch.  We were all really glad when she moved out.

Then Danielle moved in.  We all really loved her!  She took the first bedroom, I had the middle one still and Cassie had the 2^nd to last one.  Renee was in the last one…but at this point we all just ignored her.

Does that make us rude?  Yes, probably.  But all of our interactions with her ended badly, so we just stopped interacting.  If you lived with her you would know.

Anyway, Cassie, Danielle and I all got along REALLY awesomely.  We did everything together.  We enjoyed living together and all grew to be really great friends.

Now…about the apartments around us.

Like I said, we had boys living across from, below and above us.  We enjoyed their company, and they seemed to enjoy ours.  We spent a lot of our time with the boys across from us.  They were all really attractive and fun to be around.  It was a fun relationship.

I actually did have relationships with some of them, so stay tuned for that when the time comes!

The boys above us were fun to be around too.  We mostly partied with them.  They always had alcohol, and weekends were crazy and loud!  I had relationships with some of them as well.

My undergraduate years were pretty boy crazy.  I had a lot of fun, with a lot of different guys.  I don’t regret very much of it.  More on that later.

It was a good time for me.  I found out a lot about myself and how I handle stress and boy drama.  I also got a really good feel for what I wanted out of relationships and what I wouldn't stand for.  College really was about learning how I wanted things to be in my life.

The Apartments were a bittersweet experience for me.  I met some really good friends, who I am still mostly in contact with.  I had some life changing experiences, and some pretty dramatic ones too.  I lost my virginity in them. More on that later.  I ended up moving out of them in the middle of my junior year after some pretty serious shit went down with me and my roommates and some boys.  I’ll get into that later as well.

Despite all of that, I look back on that time with relative fondness.  I learned a lot and gained a lot of useful experiences from living there.  But I don’t think I would relive it again.  Once was enough.

So there you have it.  My living situation and brief summary of my experiences during that time.  I will expand on some parts, as promised, at a later time. 

Sem-Com #1: Mitch

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