On Kissing and Chance Encounters

I had a little visit from my past this evening. An old flame of mine came up to me in the cafe at Borders. He sat down for a moment to chat, and we discussed trivial things. He couldn't stay long because he was spending the evening with his mother, and she was waiting for him, so we hugged, and said we'd keep in touch and then he was gone.

Now he and I were never an item, in fact I think we only went on one date, and it was just watching a video on my living room couch. But he and I definately have a past. He was my first kiss, and let me tell you, it was an amazing first kiss. People only dream of having such good first kisses. The circumstances around the kiss weren't ideal: we weren't alone on beach, or on my doorstep saying goodnight. We were at my house on New Year's Eve, and my roommates were in the room with us.

When the clock struck midnight, he kissed me in front of my roommates. I can still hear my sister (one of my roommates at the time) screaming in the background when I remember that night. She was so grossed out. I don't blame her really, she was sitting next to me on the couch. I remember her saying, "Do you guys have to kiss so LOUD!"

The kiss itself was perfect. It wasn't a peck, and it wasn't a mouthful. It was more like the perfect kisses you see in the movies. It was lingering, but didn't last too long, and it was enough to make my head spin afterwards. It was also enough to make me write a journal entry about it that night before I went to bed. In the journal entry, I went into painful detail about the kiss because I never wanted to forget it and how it made me feel. I was going to insert an excerpt from the journal entry into this blog, but I can't find it at the moment. Too bad, because it was some juicy writing.

Pardon me, I digress. This guy and his amazing first kiss had a lasting affect on my life. I became, for whatever reason, so much more outgoing and sure of myself after that experience. I learned to love myself and have respect for myself because of him and because of something he said to me - both of which were a result of our first kiss. There is obviously a story around that one, but I'm not going into it at this time.

What I wasnted to do instead was point out the fact that seeing him tonight brought all of those feelings back from the days when we hung out. When he got up to leave, I was sad to see him go. I wanted him to stay and talk with me. I wanted to catch up more and see how he was doing. And, to be completely honest, I really wanted to kiss him again. I wanted that feeling again, the feeling that - so far - he's the only one to instill in me. And for this reason, I'm glad that he had to leave, because I don't trust myself or what I may have said or done.

So, instead, I sit here and sigh at his memory. I sip my hot chocolate and daydream of better days. I write sappy blog entries and wish my life away.