5 years later, and you still pop into my mind once a week. I can just picture what your face would look like if you read that line and knew it came from me. You would have that smug smile, the one you developed when we dated, the look that told me you assumed I was in love with you. And you would still be as wrong now as you were back then.

It had seemed logical that we go out, since we were obviously attracted to each other, and neither of us would want to jump into anything serious right away. You were going to be my first, and as it turns out, ONLY casual affair.

I was 24, and had only slept with 3 people by that time. I not only loved all of the men I had been with, but also knew for fact that they loved me. So, since I slept with you, that obviously would give the impression that I loved you. Maybe I shouldn't be upset that you mistakenly took my consent to sex as an admission of love. Perhaps I should have been more clear.

But did you really think I loved you even though I never let you into my life? I never told you my secrets, I never shared my past, and didn't even really share the present. You knew only what I allowed you to know about me. I was very careful about that. You were fun to pass the time with if I had no other plans, and I'm sure my role in your life was basically the same.

I slept with you because you were such an incredible kisser, and because I had never experienced sex with someone simply for the sake of having sex. When it turned out to be so horrible (you DID realize it was horrible, didn't you? I really hope you didn't think it was good, because that would be very unfortunate for all the women you slept with after me.) I instantly regretted my decision to be sexually spontaneous. I assumed it was because love was missing, and that love was indeed going to be a necessary element if I was to continue to have good sex in my life. Still, I wasn't 100% sure of that, so I slept with you again. And again. I thought maybe it was just my frame of mind that needed adjusting, and everything else would fall into place, but it only got worse.

Months later, after you and I had stopped seeing each other and reconciled with our exes, I was told that you had slept with my best friend while you were seeing me. The two of you had gone to great pains to hide it from me, but it seemed as if the rest of the world had known for a while. It was a huge blow. You could never hurt me on an emotional level, because you never had a hold on my heart. But my ego was bruised.

When I saw you again, I didn't have the nerve to tell you what I had found out. We were polite to each other, as always, but you had that damn smirk that said you thought I still carried a torch for you. I should have set things straight then. I should have slapped the smirk off your face. Maybe if I had I wouldn't think of you now.

I suppose you still cross my mind because you were the first man to make me feel cheap, used. The first man to cost me a friend - my best friend, no less. I wish I could erase you from my memory, because I would much prefer to not be reminded of the one sexual mistake I have made in my life. You are the skeleton in my closet. You are the thing that I wish I could go back in time and do over again, only this time I wouldn't do you at all. I would resist your charming smile and easy laugh, and I would say no when you asked me out, and I would be able to live the rest of my life looking only forward into the bright future.