I had a one-night stand with a stranger for the first time.
Personally, I am not the type of woman to partake in casual sex. I'm more interested in long-term relationships, having an emotional connection with my partner, and I care too much about my reputation that I do not want to be perceived as being promiscuous.
However, when I had split up with Sabian, my fiancé at the time, something in me died. I stopped caring about what others thought. I didn't believe in love anymore. I didn't see the value of living. That sounds rather melodramatic, but it was truly how I felt. I had this whole fantasy played in my mind about how my life would turn out, and it was taken from me.
There was a constant pain in my heart whenever I thought of him and it was difficult for me to move on. Three long months had passed, until I finally had enough of this miserable gray cloud that hung over my head. I needed to start dating again - or so I believed. It was a tiring regime. Even something as simple as meeting up with another man drained my energy - mentally and physically. In my heart, I believed there was no man who could be half as good as my former fiancé.
And so, I went on a couple of meaningless dates that were a waste of my time. I felt no spark. I was disengaged. Frankly, I don't even remember their names. There were no follow-up dates. I ignored any texts or calls from these men and, those who were infuriatingly persistent, would eventually get blocked.
Finally, I met a man who was very attractive. He had dyed white hair, pale skin that illuminated like an angel, and eyes as black as coal with a lean frame. Appearance-wise, he was the complete opposite of Sabian, which ultimately heightened my thirst for him, as I was convinced he was the perfect distraction.
And that was all.
There was nothing else that interested me about this attractive stranger. Like the rest, I didn't even remember his name. But we shall call him 'Snow White.'
Halfway through the date, I told him, "Let's skip the small talk and find a motel."
There was a look of surprise across Snow White's face, but he nodded with enthusiasm. So, we found a cheap motel that was covered in cobwebs and filth, and as I had a mold allergy, I was sneezing up a storm. To this day, I thank my lucky stars that I did not contract a ringworm or lice from such an unhygienic place.
The night spent with him was very... lacklustre. He didn't know what I liked and he wasn't invested in pleasing me. I doubt he enjoyed the experience much himself, as he had a straight face the entire time - even during the grand climax, which was enough to kill any remaining lust I had felt for him.
The experience wasn't completely terrible, but would I do it again? That's a definite no.
That night, I had bolted away from that horrendous example of a motel (you get what you pay for, I suppose) without saying goodbye to Snow White. I took a shower at the comfort of my home, and attempted to furiously wash and scrub away the night - hoping to never think about that specific stranger again.
But, of course, life had other plans.
The next morning, I ran to the toilet and threw up. The last time I vomited was over a decade ago, when I consumed too many sugary treats and carbonated drinks. So, you can imagine my surprise when I couldn't stop vomiting uncontrollably for the following days. I had also missed my period.
I took a pregnancy test and, as I suspected, it came out positive.
Immediately, I thought of the straight-faced Snow White. He was the only man that I had sexual contact with after a few months of abstinence, so there was no doubt that he was the biological father. We had used protection, but of course, I was aware they weren't 100% effective. Unfortunately, I didn't have his number, as I didn't intend to see him again, and I hadn't obtained any personal information about him that I could use to trace him.
There was no way of contacting him about this.
Frankly, I was screwed.