Wow...the memories that are associated with this defining moment of my young adulthood still give me chills down the spine of my back when I think back. However significant the first kiss may be in my young adulthood, it is merely a stain on the canvas that is my life.
My first kiss was with someone I liked, okay...really liked, and it was neat because I had no idea that he liked me too. It happened one morning when I was at work; I had finished working for the day and I was sitting inside waiting on my mom to come and pick me up because I had a couple of weeks left until I could get my liscence. It was one of those really akward moments...the kind when you both know what's going to happen, but neither one of you know exactly what to do. He leaned in, I turned my head and faked a sneeze, it was an obvious fake too! I felt my face turn red and hot and I was afraid to look at him so I quickly turned away. He put his hand on my cheek and turned my face back towards him and he kissed me.
The next few days we avoided each other like the plague. It never happened again. We never even talked about it. We still talked and everything was fine, I still see him now sometimes. But even just thinking about it and blogging about it right now is making my face turn about 30 shades of red...so I tend to force this memory out. How could I have been so dumb to actually fake a sneeze!?!?!?
Yesterday after I choose this topic and IM'ed Carma, I regreted it! But, we both talked about it and discovered that we both felt the same way about reminiscing this particular moment in our lives, both for different reasons, but nonetheless. So, we decided to modify the topic and write about our first significant kiss. This is an even better story!
I had known Jake for quite a few weeks. I met him just before going through a pretty tough break-up with another guy and we had hung out a lot. I thought he was cute, but I never expected a relationship. I was renting my house from his dad and he was doing some work down there, so he was there the majority of the day. Before long, he went home only to eat and sleep, (and the occassional late nights with his buddies getting drunk and stoned and wrecking their havoc on Washington Township), and was spending the majority of his time at my house. One night, after the break-up, I had been invited to a party that was being hosted by one of the guys at work. I knew my ex was going to be there so, naturally, I didn't want to go alone.
I called Jake up and asked him to go as my designated driver, which was my sneaky way of getting him to go and not make it sound like I was asking him on a date, he said yes. We were there for awhile, and I drank a lot! (I took along a 1/2 gallon jug of Crown Royale whiskey that belonged to my roommate and nursed that thing the whole time.) Well, being bummed out about the split a few weeks earlier combined with the excess amount of strait whiskey that I had ingested...I think you get the picture. I found Jake and told him I was ready to go home, when he asked why I started bawling so he put his arm around me and helped me to the car. The whole way back to my house I laid across his lap crying. He unlocked the door and followed me in, I sat down to take off my boots. He asked if I was okay when I went to stand up and fell back down. I sighed and told him that I was sorry for acting like such a maroon, he laughed. I stood back up and he put his arms around me, and then he kissed me. I pulled away and laughed nervously, he asked what was wrong and I shrugged my shoulders. He kissed me again. I mean kissed me again. I was amazing! (So amazing in fact that I forgot about what's-his-name. I also forgot to go to work the next morning, but I think that might have had more to do with the whiskey than the kiss!)
And that is my idea of a first kiss story!
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