A Thin Line Between Love and Lust: A Poly Love Story

PROLOGUE - BEFORE IT ALL BEGAN

High School sucked. I got no pussy.

I had plenty of chances. There were more than a few young ladies interested in a young brotha like me. It wasn't like I was ugly. They called me cute, dug my intelligence and my caramel complexion, even dug the way I dressed like I was going to church every day.

But the young women who liked me were the kind who saw no chance with the other guy, if you follow my drift. Instead, they went after the guy they thought was safe, the guy they trusted to take good care of their heart, and the gift they'd offer as a sacrifice, their body.

When I was alone with one of these girls, I'd see in her eyes how much she wanted me to touch her, kiss her, do anything to show I cared, anything to give her a reason to give herself to me. But as horny as I was, I couldn't take advantage girls like that.

They were too innocent, and I wouldn't take anything from them I didn't plan on taking care of forever. I'll be straight with you, my standards were high. I could only see myself accepting a young girl's most precious gift if I felt I'd love and appreciate it to the fullest. If I didn't see myself loving her for the rest of my life, I didn't want to be in the position to break her heart one day.

There were a few girls whom I would've accepted the world from if they offered it, but these girls would always be out of my league.

The girls I liked always wanted someone else, someone more popular, someone more dangerous, someone with... what did we call it back then?... SWAG. The girls I liked wanted swag, and I didn't have it. At least not the kind they wanted.

While most boys in school wore Jordans and white Tees, I wore loafers and button ups. While others were getting high and drinking, I was at club meetings, student council, or studying.

I can guess what you're thinking already, but you're seeing at it from an adult's eyes. The cutest high school girls weren't chasing the guy everyone teased for dressing like he was going to a job interview every day. I didn't make them want to drop their panties. I made them wish they had a brother like me.

I was the safe one. The one they didn't have to worry about pressuring them into sex. The one they introduced to their parents as a friend and didn't feel guilty about it. The one their moms invited to dinner and their dads felt safe to have around their daughter.

Sure, these girls loved to talk to me. I was the nicest guy they knew. My phone would ring off the hook with their calls. I could get them to share their deepest secrets and confide in me things they wouldn't share with anyone else.

I'd be up all hours of the night talking to the most beautiful girls in school. I heard stories of pain, joy, aspirations for the future, love, rape, family crisis, first times, last times, and every time in between. No one had more practice in listening than I.

They called me kind, sensitive, understanding, and the perfect listener... the best friend ever.

But after all that, if I dared to share my feelings, if I dared to put my love on the line, they'd shoot me down with the same devastating reply...

"You mean a lot to me Prince, and I don't want to lose you, so I think it'd be better if we stayed friends."

Ouch.

I hated those words. I despised those words. I held a secret resentment toward any girl who took the liberty to throw them in my direction so dismissively... though I was too nice to ever let them know.

Every year it happened the same way like clockwork. I'd have a crush on a girl. I'd spend all my time getting to know her. I wanted to be all she needed, so I'd invest all I had. I'd be there for her no matter what she went through. I would become her best friend.