Page 71 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
I wanted this surgery more than anything.
But it wouldn’t be immediate. The surgery was scheduled for the first Monday in July, exactly two weeks away. The scheduler explained that it was because they needed time to process everything through my health insurance. At least having the procedure two weeks away meant that I wouldn’t have to go through another period in severe pain.
I left the doctor’s office with a giant weight lifted off my shoulders. But a new one immediately came crashing down on me once I realized who I needed to call.
My parents.
Who I generally spoke with as little as possible.
I stared blankly at their number in my phone as I sat in my car. There was no way I could go through this surgery alone. The hospital wouldn’t even let me drive myself home coming off anesthesia, and I likely wouldn’t be able to take care of my stitched-up self for a few days. I needed them to come stay with me.
Which, after a brief phone call, my mother enthusiastically agreed to. She was shocked with I told her my initial diagnosis, expressing sympathy for not having picked up on my symptoms before.
It made my stressed-out heart soften. I loved my mother. Preconceptions aside, she was a warm, loving person, and I knew she missed me.
My father was a different story. Which meant that I was very surprised when my mother told me he would be coming along. She explained that he was worried about me, which nearly made me scoff. My father had never been one to show much emotion toward anything, let alone his own children. My brothers, who were fifteen and eighteen, were old enough to be left alone for a few days. I chuckled, wondering what sort of disaster my parents could come home to with two teenage boys ruling the house unattended.
Shortly after the call from my parents, I got a text from Devin. He wanted to know how I was doing, his message punctuated by a cute little heart emoji. I decided to take the initiative this time and asked when he was free again for dinner. He said the shop closed at 7 p.m. on Thursdays, so he could meet up with me then. I decided to take it a step further and asked him to take me to his favorite place in Orlando. He offered to pick me up from my townhouse, and I agreed, adding an extra layer of excitement by telling him to make our destination a surprise.
He loved it, sending me plenty of smiley faces and hearts throughout his texts. It made me feel light-headed and giddy the entire way home.
I couldn’t wait for Thursday.
Thankfully, the next few days of work flew by, and Devin’s surprise destination turned out to be a board game bar not far from Critical Games. Neither of us drank, but they had pretty good fantasy-themed food and a monstrous wall of games to pick from.
As much as I loved roleplaying and card games, I’d never played many board games. It turned out Devin was a huge fan of them. It made sense, as Critical Games was always well-stocked, and there was a small library of public board games available for patrons to freely play.
“I hadn’t played much either until I started running the shop,” Devin explained as he set up a game with a massive map. The tokens were cute woodland creatures, and I picked them up and studied the details of each one. They reminded me ofCreatures & Cryptsminiatures. “I did a deep dive into learning board games, so I’d know what to stock Critical Games with. Which has resulted in me having an overflowing collection at home.”
I smiled. As fearful as I was of broaching the topic of intimacy, I couldn’t wait to someday go over to hisplace. I wanted to enjoy all the peaceful, mundane bits of relationships—cooking meals, playing video games, cuddling on the couch. But I was still too afraid. Devin said he’d wait for me to overcome my sexual issues, but I still didn’t want to give in to temptation and end up in bed with him.
Having a sex drive while simultaneously being unable to have sex was awful. It was a cruelty I wouldn’t even inflict on my worst enemy.
We spent the next several hours jumping between games, filling up on soda and bar food in the process. Devin had to explain the games to me, and I noticed that he was an excellent teacher. Maybe too good, because I ended up beating him at the last game we played.
I loved how Devin beamed with pride when I won. If I had done this with Tyler, he would’ve been pouty over losing to a woman.
But it was a Thursday. Not only did we both have work the next morning, but since it was a weeknight, the bar closed at 10 p.m. And as Devin drove me home in his car, our intertwined fingers resting on the center console, the topic of my endometriosis came up.
“I was able to meet with the surgeon and get my surgery scheduled,” I explained. “He was great. I’m nervous about the procedure, but I’m also relieved that I’m getting it done. I can’t believe after all these years, I’ve finally gotten a diagnosis.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Devin replied. “I was doing some reading on endometriosis, and it said that on average it takes tenyearsfor a woman to get properly diagnosed. That’s insane.”
I smiled. It made my heart happy to know that Devin cared enough to research my condition. It was strange to think that less than two weeks earlier, I’d been afraid to even mention my period around him.
I concluded that he the most wonderful man I’d ever met.
And I was lucky he was mine.
“Ten years sounds about right,” I sighed. “I’ve been having these issues since I was a teenager.”
“And you just…lived like that? In that much pain?”
I shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do? Every doctor I’d ever met told me that all women experience period pain and to ‘suck it up.’ Okay, maybe not that exact wording. But you get the idea. Plus, talking about period pain is…awkward. Women are taught to hide that stuff. Especially in my bible-thumper family.”
Devin shook his head with a slight scoff of disgust. “Jesus. I have to say, Avie…you are the strongest person I have ever met. I’m just glad you’ll finally be free of your pain.”
You are the strongest person I have ever met.
