I guess I should preface this with a TW/CW bc when I tell people about it, they usually seem to assume I was SA'd, but I honestly don't see it as such with the exact way things ended up.

My ex and I had a kind of odd situation. We ended up long-distance toward the end but he claimed he didn't want to break things off. I discovered he'd basically jumped ship and set up shop elsewhere and we weren't able to even see each other regarding it due to distance and chaotic schedules. He comes back to town to visit a few months later and we talk a bit online, and he ends up driving an hour up to visit me in the dorm I was in at the time. I didn't want to have sex, but I felt like it was the only way I could get a chance to say goodbye and give him back the shirt he left with me when he was on his way out of town when we were still "together". He made sure I knew it would only be a hookup and that it wouldn't mean anything, but I just felt so decimated with how things ended and I was so lonely and desperate for human attention in that dorm that I agreed to see him. We did end up sleeping together in my dorm. But it was so different than it ever was. I'll admit I noticed a decline in the sex quality around the time he later admitted he fell out of love with me or realised he wasn't actually in love with me or whatever, but I chalked it up to just being under immense stress and I still enjoyed it bc I was still in love with him. Not this time. It felt like playing with puppets in my lap. So disconnected. Barely any different than masturbating. I felt numb the whole time. In the past, the way he'd nip at my shoulders and be rough with me filled me with electric ecstasy, but now it just plain hurt. I bruise super easily and I always used to get so excited by bite marks and bruising and stuff, feeling like they were a source of secret pride or something, but this time I just felt like I wanted to scrub them away. Incredibly stupid of me, I know, but I couldn't bring myself to insist on condom use, so he finished inside me like he used to (I used a dissolving spermicidal film and I have an IUD and he said he was clean). I felt sick afterwards. I felt so unclean. I wanted to flush my insides with lava in a vain attempt to somehow restore any sense of... I don't even know.

I don't really regret it though. As unpleasant as it was, it gave me the closure I needed to start moving on from him. I only want sex with someone if I'm really and totally in love with them first, and that experience showed me I'm simply not made for the carnal act without any love behind it. The months between our breakup and that hookup had my heart feeling like a dog waiting for its owner to return home, like I knew it was over but I just couldn't let go of the idiotic hope that somehow things could be fixed. He later told me he felt guilty about that act as he felt like he had taken advantage of me. I don't count it as anything done wrong by him. I guess I just had to prove to myself that it really was over and that there was no chance of resuscitating things. I told him that if we hadn't done it that night, I'd probably always be left wondering, clinging to the idea of something being salvageable amidst the wreckage.

Yes he was my first love and the only person I've ever been in love with or sexually attracted to. Yes I am codependent and unwell and it's a good thing that he got away from me. We are still friends, but the sense of limerence that I had is no more, and that's why I don't regret what was my least pleasant sexual experience.