Thursday morning, Gary avoided me as I prepared for school. Neither of us spoke of the events of the night before.
I sensed a level of shame and regret from my older brother. I may have been projecting my own feelings, but it felt that Gary might be ashamed and embarrassed at what he had done to his younger sister.
I wanted to say something; I wanted to talk about what happened, but I simply did not know what to say. And it was clear Gary was not prepared to discuss the events of last night, so we pretended nothing had happened. I felt alone and isolated as Gary left the house without acknowledging our intimacy.
I left for school, confused and hurt.
At school, I was constantly distracted by the irrational thought that the students and teachers could detect that I was no longer a virgin. I felt different. I felt womanly. My vagina had been christened and opened last night, my hymen had been ruptured. Not only did I feel different, I was different.
Would they sense the profound change in me? Of course not; nonetheless, I still felt like they might.
How would they react if they knew that it was my older brother who 'popped my cherry' last night? They would be horrified. I would be banished from all social interaction, labeled a 'sick pervert'.
The knowledge that society and our friends would react the way that I knew they would if they knew, bothered me. What it really meant is that there was something significant about me now that I had to hide from even my closest friends and family members, or be rejected completely. I could not be myself ever again around even my closest friends.
I now had a deep, dark secret that needed to remain hidden forever. I doubt you can understand the emotional burden that placed on a young, previously innocent, 18 year old girl.
I also was acutely aware of my vagina and clitoris all day long. I remained slightly aroused as I sat in each of my classes, paying no attention to the lectures. The gusset of my panties felt perpetually damp, even wet as my mind kept revisiting my deflowering that had occurred only the night before.
I returned home at the usual time, and waited anxiously for Gary's arrival. Mom would be out of town until Friday evening, so we were alone again on Thursday night. I wondered what tonight would entail. I was anxious and aroused wondering 'What was in store for me tonight?'
Finally, Gary showed up, about an hour later than usual and said little. I was sitting in the family room. Gary entered through the front door but immediately he went upstairs, leaving me alone to my thoughts. He barely acknowledged my presence with a nod.
I felt hurt and angry. To me, last night was a profound awakening, a precious memory and a significant emotional event. It hurt me to think Gary wanted to pretend it did not happen.
I heard the shower running. I sat contemplating how to react; what to do. After a few minutes, I mustered my courage and went upstairs. I knocked on the bathroom door and then opened it.
"Gary, can I come in? We need to talk." I said, trying to hide the nervousness in my voice. I feared being rejected at this moment.
I do not know if the readers can fully understand this, but it is monumentally big decision for a young girl to allow any boy to enter her and take her virginity. You really need to believe that the event is as important and precious to the boy as it is to you. It is a far greater emotional risk if the boy happens to be your brother, someone you have known since birth, and someone you will have to face a family gatherings for the rest of your life. It is a very frightening and hurtful thought that the person you chose to take your virginity sees it as a casual, unimportant sexual release, and nothing more; especially if he happens to be your older brother.
My ego was very fragile at this moment as I entered the bathroom. I pulled myself onto the counter by the sink. The steam from the shower provided an eerie veil as Gary and I prepared to address 'our situation'.
Gary stuck his head around the shower curtain, and seemed to be unsure of what to say. He simply stammered, "Ah, sure Liz. We can talk...sure."
"Gary, what's going on? You are avoiding me and ignoring me? Are you mad at me?" I asked. I could hear my voice cracking slightly, indicating that I was on the verge of tears. I felt a huge lump forming in my throat. I did not want to cry in front of my brother at this moment.
"Oh god, no; I am not mad at you. I think I am mad at myself. I feel guilty about what we did; or more accurately, what I did to you. You're my little sister. I am supposed to protect you, not fuck you."
"Do you regret what we did?" I asked. God I hoped he did not regret this. I hoped he did not think it was a huge mistake, something he now wishes had not happened.
"I don't know. Do you regret it?" Gary responded with an uncertain tone. His voice was shaky as well.
"I didn't regret until you started avoiding me and ignoring me. Now I am not sure. If this changes everything between us, then it was a mistake. If you are uncomfortable being in the same room as me, it certainly was a mistake." I responded honestly.
I paused to gather my thoughts before continuing. I concentrated on not losing whatever composure I had, not crying now. I needed to avoid that.
"Gary, last night, I felt good about this. Today I was a bit conflicted, but I still felt good about what happened. I felt what we shared last night was beautiful. But now you are treating me like a pariah. Now I feel dirty and ashamed. I am hurt and angry that you don't even want to be in the same room as me now." I could feel the tears starting to form in my eyes. I knew I was on the verge of crying, and I did not want that.
"Oh god, Liz, I'm sorry. I just didn't know how you would feel; if you would be angry or filled with some deep regret." Gary said with a level of genuine affection coupled with shame.
