My First Kiss Went a Little Like This

I was eighteen, and he was my first real boyfriend.

Would I kiss him again? Don’t count on it.

It was in the rain but that does not make kisses romantic, no matter how well they go. This kiss was horrid; this kiss was forced. I didn’t really have a choice to avoid it – he sort of reeled me in and did not let go until he was through. And it was at church, too. In front of people.

Ugh.

I had told him I did not want my first kiss that way. He didn’t listen. He doesn’t listen, unless he wants to do so.

His lips were dry and rough, his tongue might as well have been playing tongue hockey with my tongue in my mouth, his hands were tightened around my arms – it was so not what I had EVER imagined.

Let’s just say I haven’t been kissed since then – by MY choice.

I know everyone is different. But still. I think I’ve been traumatized? But two, I don’t WANT to kiss another guy right now. I don’t care to. I will in the future. But right now isn’t the right time. I haven’t found the right guy yet, either.

You know, the guy that weakens my knees, makes me speechless and takes my breath away? …the guy that will love me for me and makes my heart race and race and race and race…

FAIRYTALE. I don’t think that exists for me. At all. For some people all that stuff I mentioned above exists (Georgina would be one example).

But I don’t think it does for me.

Anyway, it’s thirty-three minutes passed eleven at night (or twenty-seven minutes until midnight). I’m going to hit the hay (go to bed) because I am EXHAUSTED.

Goodnight. :)

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This entry was posted on July 17, 2010 and has 5 comments. was filed under the categories Boyfriends, Get to Know Me, Relationships.

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