Prologue
My first kiss was in a place so dirty, I would rather erase it from my mind. I always told myself that my first kiss had to be something special, something I could think of with an honest smile on my face, something magical. But no. My first kiss was in a stinky hallway full of smokers in the local disco of a small town no one has ever heard off. Let me tell you exactly why it was such a failure to my fantasies.
First, the guy was freakishly tall. I asked him, and he told me he was 6'5", which explained why he had to bend over every time one of us wanted to say something, and why I had to stand on my tiptoes the whole time. Although I think the loud music was probably a cause of that too.
Second, the guy was exactly six years and one day older than me. He lived on the other side of the country and was only in town during the weekends. He was in college, studying some technical study, and I was still in my last year of middle school, desperately trying to keep my grades at an acceptable height to pass.
Third, the person I was crushing on hard at that time was in that same disco that night, and if I recall right and if I was not seeing things back then, he saw everything that happened between me and Mister Skyscraper in front of me. And yes, that includes the kiss.
Forth, I did not like him at the time. Yes, I had previously taken an interest in him, which was why we decided to meet up someday and that day seemed to be that night. I am not the person who makes out with a person, before knowing them and liking them. Which is also part of the reason I had never kissed before, but that's just side information. Why did I not like him anymore? The conversation was awkward, the guy had a really weird laugh which I was finding very hard to think of as 'cute' and boy, were we different. Small talk was enough to make that obvious. Still, he was trying to make something out of it, which was kind of cute but irritating at the same time.
Fifth, the kiss. I wasn't even prepared for a kiss. Sure, the potential for sharing a kiss hung in the air between us, regardless the extremely awkward silences in between answers and questions. But I didn't expect it to actually happen. I was pulling him down towards me so I could tell him I had to go home, and spontaneously decided to give him a small and quick kiss on the cheek. And by spontaneously I mean; it was the alcohol who made that decision. But it was meant as a goodbye, I swear! I was planning on leaving and not getting back in touch with him. I mean, it was obvious we weren't meant for each other. But apparently he thought different of that. He sort of just grabbed my face and pushed it towards his and before I had caught up to what was going on, I had lip contact. Actual. Lip. Contact. I was kissing!
I couldn't think straight after that. I could blame it on the alcohol, but really it was just the series of events that happened so quick. I had gotten my very first kiss and it had lasted for a good second and a half. It was kind of wet and I hadn't felt a single thing. Not one unenviable spark. I did not dare to look at my co-kisser, turned on my heels and walked away in search of my friends.
The good guy texted me that same night asking if I got home safe and that he liked that I showed up for a conversation with him. It pained me to turn him down. He was too nice to hurt, but I was not feeling anything and I wasn't going to lead him on like that.
And that is the story of my first kiss. To me, it felt like a disaster. It was everything I hoped it wouldn't be. Was this an introduction of how the rest of my love life was going to be?
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Thanks for reading :)
Ps. If anyone feels the need to know;
The picture by the side was taken in the exact same disco where this story takes place. I did not chose a picture with people on it for privacy reasons.
