I had the perfect relationship. We met in my junior year of high school, and continued to date for the next year. While I had already lost my virginity prior to meeting my high school sweetheart, he had not (as far as I knew). During the first couple weeks of our relationship, I avoided the topic of virginity like the plague, as I didn’t want to rehash my embarrassing and somewhat regretted first time.
The time eventually came for us to get it on, and while I hadn’t asked if he still carried is v-card, after our first time lasted a good 10 minutes I figured I had not been the one to take his innocence. (What? Guys with their v-cards tend to finish at just the thought of getting some…)
Shortly after, the big conversation rolled around and I found out that I was indeed his first. I fessed up to my previous experience, and it seemed to be cool with him. He told me he was relieved that I knew what I was doing, as he was without a clue. It was a constant joke in our relationship that I had been the one who corrupted him, ha ha ha.
Fast forward a year later, and it’s time for him to go to college. Three hours away. So, after much contemplation, we decided the best thing to do would be to break up. We both needed to live a little before settling down with the person we truly felt was the one. We knew that we would both be attending the same college after this year was over, and if it was meant to be, it would happen again. It was hard, and we remained friends (who had sex on a semi-regular basis…) and things were going well.
But now that year is over. I had a few hook-ups, and while they were fun, I missed the stability and love of being with my sweetie. We’re back together now, and things have worked out essentially as planned. The chemistry is still there, we’re madly in love, and we are basking in being able to see each other every day. There’s only one problem – I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed some hook-ups on our off time.
I found out he had sex with two girls, a couple times each. He no longer talks to these girls because they wanted more and he didn’t. Actually, the experiences weren’t even that great for him. But the fact is, I can’t get it out of my head. I know he is the same person as he was before, and his sexual history shouldn’t matter, but there’s just something about knowing I’m no longer the only one that makes me feel weird.
Is it normal to feel so much jealousy about no longer being the only one, even though I’ve done the same? How do I no longer feel threatened by these girls I don’t even know?