Happy Endings Come Undone

I remember I used to think Disney romances were possible. There was only one shot at love and whoever it was, you were destined to be with for the rest of your life. I lost my virginity when I was seventeen, and all it took was one time for me to realize that fairytale endings simply were myth.

I was so in love then. I think every teenage girl goes through a phase when she thinks that boy is The One. For me, it was Simon. We shared English and Fine Arts together at school, and our circle of friends sometimes meshed.

At first we didn’t really pay attention to each other because school work was taking the brunt of our focus. Half a year went by and all we remained was friends. During winter break, he started hanging out. Without school rules to confine us, it was a lot easier for us to be ourselves, do silly things, and really get to know each other.

I found out that he wanted to go into biomedical science in college. They didn’t offer any majors of his liking in our town, so he said he would have to move after graduation. As for me, I wanted to be a teacher, so it was no challenge for me to find a school and just go there. The only thing holding me back from attending some places would probably be money, and maybe my grades if the school was pretentious enough.

I secretly imagined going to the same school as him, but I hadn’t set my heart on the idea early on. As the rest of the school year passed us by, we became closer friends. During that time, I became to like him more and more. I couldn’t imagine my day starting without him sitting next to me in class and asking me how I was.

But I didn’t think that he really cared for me the same way I cared for him. Even though I was falling in love with the little things he did and the little things he said, he didn’t seem to show any special interest in me. It wasn’t until Prom came around the corner and he asked me out.

Oh what a clue that was. I was so giddy, I harassed my mother to help me sew my own Prom dress. I’m pretty sure I gave her a hundred grey hairs with my insistence and pestering and constant nagging. The finished product was gorgeous though. It was a little rough around the edges because we had to rush putting on the zipper and making sure I didn’t pop out of the thing, but it was so pretty.

When Simon picked me up that night, he gawked like a fish out of water. It was priceless! I still remember his face and how his eyes raked over me. Boys and their hormones, it never fails.

He smiled at me with a hint of wickedness and slipped a corsage onto my wrist. He took my hand, kissed it, and together we went to the dance. We had the time of our lives. If my mother hadn’t put a curfew on me, I would have been more than happy to stay out with him all night.

When he brought me home just before midnight, he kissed me at the doorstep. It was hard to let him walk away without asking for more. And at the stroke of twelve, as his car pulled down the street, my night ended, but the spell wasn’t broken.

Days after proved to be most enjoyable when we walked together in the halls and found each other at lunch time. Sometimes we even held hands as we walked. It was no secret amongst our friends that we were dating, but to our parents, we played it off that we were only close friends.

When summer came, it was hard to deal with not being around him all the time. My mother didn’t let me have a car despite having a license, so it was hard to just go out and see him whenever I wanted to. But as often as we were able, we made dates and went out as long as the day and our parents allowed. We went to movies and the park, the beach and the mall -- more than once I teased him and dragged him into a girly store, asking him if this dress looked flattering, or if I should buy that set of panties on sale.

Whenever I did that, he’d warn me of how one day those words could get me into trouble. I secretly hoped it would, but I played with him and said it wasn’t possible.

For a while, it never did. But one day, in the middle of hot July, it finally came. We spent the day at the seaside park, walking along the pier and playing on the grounds. We picked up something to eat before going to his place. He told me his parents were out for the day and wouldn’t be back until really late at night because of some event they were at.

I hadn’t really thought anything of it, only pleased to spend some time alone with him. We came into his house and air condition never felt so good. We ate and settled in the living room. His couch was so huge, it was almost like lounging on a small bed. Despite the heat outside, we cuddled together to watch some television.

I was content to just be near him, but after a while, he ran his hand along my side. It moved up and down in slow strokes, until it wrapped around my stomach and his fingers teased me just below my belly button. And when his hand tried to sneak inside my shorts, I knew what he wanted. I turned to face him and asked him if he really wanted to do it. He kissed me and said yes.

We moved up to his bedroom and kissed on his bed. He touched me all over, and I did the same. My hands went under his shirt and over his body. He caressed my bottom and kneaded my breasts. I loved it when he kissed my skin, taking off my shirt and shorts, leaving me in my underwear. I made him take off his clothes too, which he was happy to do.

Of course, I was the first to take off my underwear. I unhooked my bra and let him kiss and touch my breasts. Having his mouth on my nipple had been the strangest and most erotic sensation I had ever experienced up to that point. I couldn’t stop squirming when he continued to play with me. And when he rubbed me through my panties, it was so hot. I nearly came just from the way his finger stroked me.

I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me. I took off the last of my underwear and let him see all of me. The way his gaze burned still stays in my memory now. It was so hot, so full of desire, I practically melted. I was so in love with him, the little things, the little details like putting on a condom or taking any pills hadn’t really occurred to me. I bet they didn’t occur to him either because as soon as I begged for him to take me, he ripped off his boxers and pressed against me.

He teasingly nudged me and I rocked my hips against him to help stroke him into full erection. He was so hard and aching, it only took a matter of seconds before he pushed into me. He was my first, so the initial thrust had stung, but once he sheathed himself completely, I hardly knew the difference.

Simon was gentle at first, letting me adjust, but once his hormones got the better of him, and mine got he better of me, he rocked into me without abandon. I didn’t really know the difference between good and bad sex since he was my only one, but Simon felt good. Whatever he did, however he did it, all I knew was that it made me moan and squirm and beg for more.

He held my hips steady as he thrust into me over and over again, and I rocked against him just as eagerly. And when he came, he pushed so deep and came so hard, I thought I reached my climax at the same time just from feeling him fill me up.

And he didn’t stop there. We didn’t stop just after one time. I really loved him, and I was really into having sex with him. And he was more than willing to have another round.

He let me sit on him this time, and we tried it that way. I braced myself against his chest and bounced up and down. I rolled my hips and pushed down on him all the way. I didn’t really know about technique, only what felt good to me. He wasn’t shy about letting me know what felt good to him, so I also used that as a clue to help guide me.

When he needed it a little more rough, he grabbed my hips and pushed up into me at the same time that I went down on him. Again and again he hit me hard and deep. I could feel him pushing all the way inside me with each thrust. After a while, my breasts ached from bouncing a lot, so I held them. Simon really liked that. He liked the idea of me fondling myself while he fucked me. So I groped myself and touched myself while he took control of my hips.

This time I was the first to reach my climax. It hit me harder than the first one, pulling me tight around him like a vice. Simon groaned his pleasure and slammed into me a few times before coming too. I was filled to the brim with his orgasm, and tired. Simon let me lay on top of him, still connected inside me. But once he had gone limp, he made me get up.

All the fluid inside me dripped between my thighs. Feeling it against my skin nearly made me come all over again. It was so dirty, so arousing, it was amazing we didn’t go for round three.

After that, he and I laid together in his bed. He touched me almost lazily, sometimes along my sides and back, sometimes on my breasts, sometimes even between my legs. I stroked his chest and let him continue, and together we just rested and talked. I thought it was fantastic. Like a dream come true. At one point I considered the idea of getting pregnant, but I was certain that he would be there for me if that happened.

Oh, but how wrong I was. Several weeks after our little fun time, I realized I was having menstrual problems. It didn’t really dawn on me right away, but when I found myself getting sick in the morning, I knew what was wrong with me. I was pregnant, and Simon was the father.

After going to the doctor and getting officially diagnosed, my parents and I had a big fight. My dad threatened to find Simon and “talk” with him. I didn’t want him to get into trouble, and I was upset that my parents could understand that Simon and I had loved each other this much, so I went to Simon and suggested we elope.

I thought Simon would say yes, but once he learned I was pregnant, and that my dad was out to get him, he didn’t take the news so well. In fact, he freaked. Said he didn’t want anything to do with me. He didn’t want to deal with my family problems and my... predicament. I pleaded with him, and argued with him, and we talked over and over again, but he said he had a future to think about, and other plans on his mind. He didn’t have room for a baby.

And so just like that, I realized that Simon... despite his love for me, was too afraid to stick with me to the end. He had other things to think about, and I, nor our baby, were part of his plans. Devastated, and stuck with a child I wasn’t prepared for, lapsed into a terrible emotional roller-coaster. Eventually my mom stopped being mad at me and decided to help me, but I knew she was still disappointed in what I’d done.

I probably could’ve had an abortion, but I still wanted to cling to the idea that Simon loved me and the baby growing inside me wasn’t a mistake. So I kept it. And mom helped me through the process. Come Fall, Simon moved out of town to some college far away from me. I didn’t go to college because I couldn’t handle taking care of myself, a child, and school at the same time.

Some of my friends who had heard what happened came to comfort me and spend time with me. It made me feel better, though I still remembered how my fantasy came crashing around my ears. When my term was up and I finally gave birth, I named my baby Genevieve. Yes, a baby girl. I gave her my last name, and when I had to fill out papers claiming who her father was, I didn’t put down Simon’s name. I loved him, but I didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.

And so it’s been that way ever since. Three years have passed and I’ve managed to go back to school. It’s hard, taking care of a child and myself at the same time. I still live with my parents, and my mom helps me out every once in a while with taking care of Genny, but it’s still a struggle. Even though I thought Simon was my Prince Charming, he wasn’t. Even though I loved him, he didn’t love me enough to stick around.

So now I know. Disney is full of lies. Happy Endings don’t work out the way they say they do. And I’ll be sure to teach my daughter that. So she doesn’t make the same mistake as me.