Matured Stories

How I Lost It (18+) – Season 1 – [Episode 1 – 5]

How I Lost It

How I Lost It

It was a memorable night. But not for the right reasons. At least, not for the reasons you think. I was a final year student in a school of very high repute. And I had been dating my boyfriend for almost three years. Yes, I was one of those ‘good girls’, who didn’t want to have s*x until I got married. And I said this much to my boyfriend. He seemed to understand, or maybe he pretended to understand, because he still tried on occasion to get me to ‘do stuff’. I would usually stop at kissing, and demurely move away when his hands started to go places I thought they had no business going. Sometimes, he would gracefully accept it and other times, he would try to pressure me into going further. So, I stopped going to see him in his room. I told myself it was dangerous ground, and that as long as I kept away from quiet places, where there was a bed, I would be fine.

Of course, he didn’t like that I didn’t come to visit in his room anymore. He didn’t like that I would always wait for him downstairs, and prefer to take a long stroll around the school grounds, where there were lots of people. But he did it anyway. I remember he used to call me ‘his virgin’ then, like it was a thing of pride for him. I remember blushing hard every time he said it, revelling in the fact that he appreciated my innocence. I remember him saying how he was looking forward to marrying me when we were done with school. That thought brought a lot of joy to my soul, naïve twenty-one year old that I was.

And so it was, that we were preparing for our final exams, the ones that meant we were finally free from the drudgery of lectures and text books, and from ‘areas of concentration’ sometimes willingly revealed by lecturers. I was studying in my room around midnight, when all my roommates were asleep after having exhausted themselves with primping for visiting hours. My own visiting hours during exam periods were often spent sleeping in preparation for my ‘All-nighters’ – I was one of those annoying efikos – and my boyfriend knew better than to come knocking during this time. But he also knew I’d be awake from 11pm up until 3am, so when he called me that night, I answered my phone, in a whisper so as not to disturb the sleeping girls.

“Hey love. What’s up?”

“Where are you?” he asked, like I would be anywhere else but my room.

“In my room…” I responded. “Studying”

“I’m downstairs. Heading to class, and thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

“Oh really?” I said, not particularly excited, since I was just in the middle of getting through a difficult statistical quandary. “Ok, I’ll come down for a bit.”

I unfolded my legs from under me, and jumped down from my perch on the top bunk. My ‘bunkie’ and I had put money together to rug the floor in our corner, so I landed almost soundlessly on the ground. I had to shrug into a pair of jeans and a shirt, as I tended to study in my night shirt, and I wasn’t exactly pleased to have to get into any real clothes. But for peace’s sake, I was going to get this done and over with as quickly as possible. On my way out of the room, I grabbed my notebook and took it along with me, hoping it would encourage him to go off to class quickly and let me get back to my studying.

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