It is but a hazy memory now, remembering how it came to be. I can vaguely picture her straight dirty blonde hair that laid just at her shoulders. Her piercing sapphire blue eyes locking onto my sparkling blues. She had a parade of faint freckles that trailed across her nose. A goofy crooked smile that just put you over the moon. She was unique in all mannerisms. She was my first love.
Everyone flocked around the beauty with the boy name. Occasionally she would get teased by the boys for it. She would stand her ground most of the time, but I loved swooping in to "save the day". I'm not sure who approached whom first, but I was definitely glad that it happened. She made every day adventurous and made me feel braver than I was.
We were as close as an outcast and a center of attention could be. I wasn't always alone with her at my side like how I longed, but every moment spent with her felt like a gift to me. The fact that someone so beautiful and out going, just like my sister, wanted to be around me was a big surprise. Me, the big mouthed tattletale weirdo. It may have been nothing to her, but it was everything to me. It always will be.
YOU ARE READING
The First
Non-FictionThis is a story or rather an essay on my first kiss and how I discovered I was bisexual. This is not an easy story to tell. I will even be leaving out a lot of facts that I am absolutely not comfortable with sharing just now. This will most likely b...
