I was 19, at university, and had been secretly in love with her since we'd both arrived at university 2 years earlier and been put in the same hall of residence. She was straight and had a boyfriend of about a year, I had relationships with men too but had always thought about women. One night we'd gone out in our usual four (we'd moved into a flat together by this point) and got drunk at the union and after the taxi back to the flat she and I were sitting on my bed talking with our backs against the wall, close to each other.
She, out of nowhere, turned into me and kissed me and I continued the kiss. One thing led to another and we ended up having sex. I was in love with her breasts and able to indulge all the fantasies I'd had about touching and kissing them from the past couple of years! I remember at one point attempting to go down on her and her pulling me back up out of embarrassment. We were both super turned on but no orgasms, far too drunk for that. She assumed I'd 'done this before', but I corrected her - only in my head, many times already with her.
Early the next morning she got up to go to her own bed in case her boyfriend came round. I discovered her leather cord necklace in my bed later when I woke up for the second time late that morning. It had 5 plastic coloured stars on it and smelt of her and her perfume and I refused to give it back to her for several weeks. I kept it under my pillow where I'd found it. We carried on our furtive affair for several months and I was at once deeply in love and incredibly anguished, as her relationship continued with her boyfriend. Skunk Anansie's 'Secretly' which was out at the time became my song of the moment and I wrote her a love poem about my hatred of her. The Catullus poem 'odi et amo' which I'd been made to study years before rang true in my heart. I felt powerless .."I sit powerless in your palm and you smile that I'm free..With every right, with every will, I would hate you but I love you still."
Some months later she split up with her boyfriend and we were finally together. We assumed our flatmates already knew but when we told them it was a complete surprise. We left university, and after earning a bit of money we travelled the world for a year. But our sex life was sporadic and never matched that intense fever we had during those first few secretive months. My intense affection for her was not matched and our relationship petered during this time, and our time in the UK after. But every time we tried to definitively break up we ended up back in bed with each other - that same atmosphere of 'we shouldn't be doing this' sex that had captivated us in those first months returned and bound us to each other.
There is no happy ending to this story, we did break up finally and it was hard and acrimonious as I turned inward to lick my wounds and she turned outward to our mutual friends for support (who I then felt I would lose). But, *cliche*.. time is a healer and we are still friends now, and we still have all our friends and our friendship group intact. I went out with women and she went out with men and this summer, 14 years after we first hooked up, she married her boyfriend in France and I helped organise her hen party.