Our first kiss was bad. It was so perfect, but it was bad. We both knew it.
We had just been on our second date to a Mexican restaurant. I hate Mexican food, but he picked the place and I didn't want to say anything. Then we walked around down town after dark. It was really romantic. We walked on the boardwalk and there were Christmas lights still up even though it was February. It was really chilly and we were all dressed up. He gave me his jacket. It was like a scene from a stupid Rom-Com.
He walked me to my car and we talked for a second. I could tell we were both thinking about it but I was far too shy to initiate. Then he kissed me. It was quick and it was out of sync, but the whole date leading up to it was so perfect and I had wanted him to kiss me so bad. Then we said goodbye and I drove home.
He texted me after the date and we both reassured each other we were far better kissers then what we had displayed, and we planned to do it again.
Most people see a bad kiss as a bad sign. For reasons I still can't explain I saw an excuse to try again. There's 1000 things I wish I could do differently. I never thought a kiss would be one of them, but here I am.
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I Wore Jeans.
RomanceA story about a toxic relationship from the point of view of the girl it destroyed.
