My first relationship lasted about 6 days but when you're 13 years old, that's more or less true love. Anywho, I was wandering around downtown -let's call it Southville, in the interest of discretion - on a nice, snowy December 27th with my best friend...let's call him Jamal. We ran into a cute girl that he knew from one of his classes and I forget the rest so let's fast forward to her New Year's Eve party (3 days, for you math majors out there.) Jamal and I were pretty cool back then so naturally we were loaded up on Mountain Dew and cookies and rode our bikes through the snow to her house.
Straight away I asked her out ("Do you think you might wanna go out sometime?"...smh) and somehow tripped my way into a relationship with that line. Real lady killer material. I guess her friend (let's call her Lucifer) didn't like me too much because she managed to hit me in the nuts 7 times that night, 1 of which was by throwing an apple across the basement straight into the cajones. I decided that I wouldn't let that ruin my master plan to land my first kiss on my first girlfriend at my first high school party. I was a romantic and was planning on kissing her right as the ball dropped (best odds of her not shutting it down).
Well...Lucifer was glaring me down when midnight struck and I chickened out, waited 30 minutes until we were outside in a snowball fight, and gathered up the courage to tackle her into a snow bank to land a perfect first kiss onto my girlfriend. She even kissed back...solid. Fast forward 3 days, she calls me to break up ("It's not you, it's me" bs) and tells me she's dating some other dude who was also at the party. Once I got to know her, I found out she's a serial dater and had actually dodged a bullet. It crushed me, but I was able to take away a valuable lesson from the ordeal: 1st kisses don't mean squat. By glorifying that 1st kiss, I had set myself up for failure because my generation doesn't give two craps about 1st kisses. We ended up hooking up 5 years later in our 1st year of college and I wrote a poem about it in a creative writing class a couple months afterward:
Ignorance
The second kiss doesn't come for close to six years. But by then things have changed and it means more to hug your brother than fuck your friend and you watch the one girl that mattered find more men that matter. You don't even remember the kiss that started the chaos of feelings and lurching stomachs years before. And you can't remember the feel of her breath on your chin, or her lips on your mouth, or her hands on your cheeks because none of that matters when you walk away, and she walks away, and you turn around, and she doesn't.
Anywho, I just moped about for a couple months until I found a new girl to break my heart, but that's a different story that I aptly titled, "Virginity Doesn't Mean Squat." Stay tuned...
Straight away I asked her out ("Do you think you might wanna go out sometime?"...smh) and somehow tripped my way into a relationship with that line. Real lady killer material. I guess her friend (let's call her Lucifer) didn't like me too much because she managed to hit me in the nuts 7 times that night, 1 of which was by throwing an apple across the basement straight into the cajones. I decided that I wouldn't let that ruin my master plan to land my first kiss on my first girlfriend at my first high school party. I was a romantic and was planning on kissing her right as the ball dropped (best odds of her not shutting it down).
Well...Lucifer was glaring me down when midnight struck and I chickened out, waited 30 minutes until we were outside in a snowball fight, and gathered up the courage to tackle her into a snow bank to land a perfect first kiss onto my girlfriend. She even kissed back...solid. Fast forward 3 days, she calls me to break up ("It's not you, it's me" bs) and tells me she's dating some other dude who was also at the party. Once I got to know her, I found out she's a serial dater and had actually dodged a bullet. It crushed me, but I was able to take away a valuable lesson from the ordeal: 1st kisses don't mean squat. By glorifying that 1st kiss, I had set myself up for failure because my generation doesn't give two craps about 1st kisses. We ended up hooking up 5 years later in our 1st year of college and I wrote a poem about it in a creative writing class a couple months afterward:
Ignorance
The second kiss doesn't come for close to six years. But by then things have changed and it means more to hug your brother than fuck your friend and you watch the one girl that mattered find more men that matter. You don't even remember the kiss that started the chaos of feelings and lurching stomachs years before. And you can't remember the feel of her breath on your chin, or her lips on your mouth, or her hands on your cheeks because none of that matters when you walk away, and she walks away, and you turn around, and she doesn't.
Anywho, I just moped about for a couple months until I found a new girl to break my heart, but that's a different story that I aptly titled, "Virginity Doesn't Mean Squat." Stay tuned...