Walking away from me

He's a virgin. I am not a virgin. I lost the sacred purity just last summer to a boy I loved to the core of my being. I still love him but he has changed so much. I come to college and I set my sights on Johnathon.
Johnathon is a beautiful 18 year old person. His appearance is slightly dull to the glance, but if you look him over, you can see his perfect, bronze skin (even without any sort of tanning or hours of outside exposure). You can see his beautiful small lips, always forced into a tiny frown. His lovely, dark blonde hair and his beautifully toned body; amaze me each time I see him. I let out a sigh when he walks by because I am in the presence of someone wonderful. When he laughs, I can't hide my smile.
At the beginning of the school year, I was introduced to this creature by my new roommate who was eager to find me a boyfriend. She had gone to the same highschool with him and they were somewhat friends. We talked somewhat and I can't remember thinking much but "I am so desperate and he doesn't seem to interesting but if he's interested than so am I".
A week or so went by and I had gotten acquainted with the "hippies" of our dorm. They were very generous with their resources and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I tried to forget all about the opposite sex and just think about how great I felt when with my "hippy" friends.
One day, One of my hippies decided to take me on a "walk" with her. I walked by my roommate walking into the building and she told me that Johnathon had a thing for me.
I didn't think too much of it until he and I played a game of pool together. My roommate watched us play and played matchmaker at the same time. I felt like such an idiot. With all my experience with men, I couldn't touch his butt or hintingly touch his waist like she told me to. There was just something about it that bothered me. It needed to be natural, not forced. Besides, I always enjoyed the thrill of testing the limits. But, my roommate was too impatient and told him to touch me here and here and told me to touch him there and there.
I felt like a two year old learning to use the big potty. It was a very demeaning experience, especially since she had only dated one person and I had dated many, along with many, flings I guess you would say.
So after that, Johnathon and I realized it was really awkward for us to talk to eachother. Even though my roommate had left us alone (finally!), we still felt the force and demands that we needed to rush into the physical aspects. This alone, I think really fucked up any chance we had.
It's safe to say that Johnathon and I would go to his room and makeout, hold eachother, avoiding talking at all costs. I would go back to my room and try to keep memories of all the kisses he had just given me. We went on like this for about a month or two months, I can't remember. We were rarely together during this time, unless we visited eachother for our dose of affection.
I can remember, this one night, when the air was getting colder. It must have been late september or so, but we sat on the grass lawn, shivering slightly as we hadn't adapted to the decrease in temperature yet, clinging to eachother and talking like we never had. We were too chilled to be nervous with each other. That was the only night we had that was completely relaxed. He sat down with his legs straight and I sat in his lap, hoping I wouldn't crush my boy and let my head rest on his shoulder. I can remember the smell of the night air and the lack of hesitation. I remember that kiss. That amazingly perfect kiss that could never be topped. We had so many of those but with the extra comfort, this was exagerated.
I miss him holding me close to his beautiful and strong body. Later on, he told me he didn't want a relationship. I tried to tell him "well we never really had one to begin with, so what the fuck?" But he cut me off, told me it's nothing to do with me, he just doesn't want one. It broke my heart. I didn't love him. But it broke my heart because although he and I didn't touch much, we really had no need for it. We gave each other exactly what we both needed, physical affection. Something I've yearned for before each boyfriend and after.
He still comes to me sometimes, telling me he misses me and he wants to call me. But he never does. I'm lucky if I can get a hug out of him. I'm not so sure if I even want his hugs anymore.

He came to me a little while ago, while I was in my pajamas, no makeup, hadn't showered for a day and I was smoking (he hates me smoking). He follows me to my room and acts as if, he's changed his mind about getting rid of me. He touches me just like he used to. He holds me close to him, resting his chin on my head, just as I love. And I can feel my heart soften into the comfort of his arms.
He came for comfort, I could feel it in his sighs, but his flesh wanted more. I told him no "I'm not going to take your virginity... I will not have that over my head"
I don't know what to do.