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2nd July 2008 (A Tale Of A First Kiss)

On this day, two years ago, I kissed my best friend. We had become really close; there was a big similarity between us, and in the few ways we weren’t similar there was him instilling more confidence in me and me helping him become the person he wanted to be.

Going round to sleep over on the first night he would be in his new house was a bad idea, everything considered. I knew it was. He had a girlfriend, long distance, but the tension between us was incredible and I knew that I couldn’t not have gone. I would have just kept on wondering “what if…”

We laid on the bed, speaking sporadically, discussing our situation. He wanted to kiss me – the desire to was in his eyes whenever we were messing around and found ourselves close, and he’d confirmed it to me each time after we’d parted ways for the day. He wanted to kiss me, but I wouldn’t let him. His then current relationship was coming to it’s end and had been pretty much over for months but still it didn’t seem right. But I wanted to kiss him, wanted it so badly, and felt regret for the time previous when he’d come so close and I’d pushed him away. I’d never been kissed before, and the idea that in honouring this – broken – relationship of his I would lose this chance, ate away at me.

We carried on discussing. It was far more formal than any of our previous sticky situations; we were laid beside each other but the desperation to touch was kept in control.

Can he kiss me?
I already said.
He had to make the decision between her and me, and I just knew he’d choose her, even then, so there was no point in taking our situation further.

Silence. He sat up on his elbows. Silence. “Do you trust me?” he asked. “Yes,” I muttered, “I’ve never said I didn’t”.

Everything was in slow motion. He moved down towards me and my head was reeling. Oh my god he’s going to kiss me, oh my god he’s going to kiss me and I can’t stop it this time, I can’t. An age seemed to pass while I realised the enormity of this moment, how this friendship was about to change, how I was about to change.

His lips brushed against mine twice. I made no move in reply, staying, as I had done, laid on my side. He laid back down and asked if he could have a response to the peck on the cheek he’d given me a few weeks ago now – it had been in friendship, he’d said, it didn’t mean anything, but I knew him well. I lent over and kissed him quickly, I felt like a child, I could do no more.

He gave me the most incredible smile, one I’ve seen only twice to this day, and I read his eyes – happy, ecstatic even, cheeky, and no doubt fully aware that really, this was wrong, we should have waited a little longer. He sat up and hovered above me. This was it.

Things got a bit awry after that. There were cuddles, no sex, but afterwards came upset. Yet even through that and still now I look back on that most perfect of moments and remember my first kiss and that evening with affection. In the ways it truly mattered it was perfect and I only wish I could repeat it again and again.



July 5, 2010, 4:22 pm

What a lovely story :-) I love perfect moments like that, even if the after-effects can sometimes not be quite so perfect.

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