First

A Story by Drjgreddick

Does it matter?You were first!?!
She told me last night I was the first.
I thought then slept on "by god, it must had been her worst!"
No, not so, it not that at all! Her eyes are filled this morn with happy tears.
Our souls became brave, yet cautious, defiant of our fears.
Sitting this next morn at her bistro table strategically in the one window kitchen,
thoughts beyond the prior night's passion, my heart still pounding , trepidation also not a mention.
Oh, this room and table too small to see any other than each other's eyes, then of course this what I realize.
It, no she, was special, but that I already knew. I'd been with many and she only a few too.
What had she meant? Now with her tear moistened eyes, often a squirm then occasional softening sighs.
"Does it matter I meant that you are A first, you seemed sincere saying you loved me, had not judged me as you held me. Even after, I seemed to you that I so dear? Does it matter that this what I mean by you the first?"
Couldn't escape with my own tears in such a small room, didn't really want to or need escape this loneliness' doom.
Never escape from her, for what she had sensed as true!
"You too was the first. It was not only my own satisfaction & passion the night's concern but what more of you I could learn, so much more of you that I thirst."
We now enjoy the mornings as they given, we together, each has merits that haven been arisen, as us, and still the nights. Each were counted by days, weeks, months then years; we now to others just boring sights.
Gone for long now,, loneliness and self-loathing that we had been cursed because each allowed the other as ourselves forgiving to be A first.