First Time For Everything: The Rebound

After a bad break-up, I hid in my room for a while listening to Beck’s sad Sea Change, clutching my childhood stuffed animal, Muffin, wondering what I did wrong. But after the obligatory period of self-pity, I was ready to move into phase two: the drunken rebound. My newfound freedom had me wanting some free love! So I rounded up my lady friends, put on my please f*** me pumps, and went out just to get back out there.
We wound up at a dive bar we used to go to years ago. Just like we stepped into a magical time machine, some old guy friends were there that night too. And one in particular was looking good. When he asked me to dance, I thought my feet were going to fall off, but I say yes because his tight jeans are telling me I’m not killing myself in four-inch heels for nothing. As we got into the groove, he didn’t skip a beat and we were soon making out like a couple of teenagers in a movie theater. He held me so close there was nowhere to go but down. I knew time and my ability to stand was running out, so I took him home where we could get horizontal.

The sex was great and just as I was congratulating myself for my first single gal guilt-free romp, he was ready for time #2. I don’t know if it was endorphins or his finger tricks, but suddenly I felt so on top of the world, I thought I was going to fall for all the fine men in the free world. A couple days later, when my rebound man called to ask me out on a date, I was still up on my unattached high horse. So I chuckled and told him I wasn’t ready for anything, but I felt indebted to him for all his hard work.

A year has gone by, I’ve gotten tired of the revolving door of dates that is standard for the single life and have started seeing someone. My rebound, on the other hand, just had a bad break up over New Years. (Rough!) Now it’s payback time. He sent me an email to say hi, and ever since I’ve been feeling like I wrote a rebound check my ass can’t cash. I mean, technically, I owe him. He was there for me in my time of need and normally, I’d be more than happy to give him what he earned. Trouble is, although I’m not under an exclusive relationship contract, we’re headed there. As much as I want to screw my rebound again, at least to figure out what he does with his magic hands, I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize things with my new man. What is a lady to do?