Day 3 of 30

Day 3: Your first love and first kiss, if separate, discuss both.

As of the writing of this post, Christin is going to grace us with her presence and join in. She is now officially on her Winter Break, which means if all goes well, we should be seeing more of her here on the Blog.

Now, for today’s prompt. Oh, where to begin. I remember growing up, once I hit my teens, everyone told me “You will always remember your first kiss.” Well, guess what? I do not remember my first kiss. I cannot even remember the guy, which makes me sound slutty, but trust me that was not the case. I can proudly count on one hand how many people I have kissed….among other things. And yes, I will say it, even having what I consider to be a low number, I wish it was even less.

This is what I do remember. I did not understand the logistics of kissing. Which way do you tilt your head? Whose lip is on top? Can you still kiss if you do not use your tongue? I remember asking my conservative church friends “How do you kiss? How do you know if you are a good kisser?” Forget Youth Group on Wednesday night church, my friends and I would gather together watching all the cute boys play basketball and they would draw me a diagram of how to kiss. Now, I do not know if they just sucked at drawing or if I just was not getting it, but I was more confused than ever.

“Jen, you are overthinking it!”

“How can you NOT overthink it, it’s a pretty big deal!”

I was obsessed with learning how to kiss.

At the time, Dad was working for Pepsi. One day, he brought each of us three kids home an oversized teddy bear. I do not know if this teddy bear was a promotional item or what, but I instantly fell in love with my new friend. I would position him on my bed, or at my vanity table. Many times all my other stuffed animals would just sit in his lap. I loved that big ole bear. And, low and behold, the oversized teddy bear was the absolute perfect thing to practice kissing on. I had the diagrams my well-meaning friends drew me. Looking at the diagram, then practicing on my teddy bear, well, it was good until it was not. It took me a bit too long to realize the damn bear cannot tell me if I am any good or not. This was pointless.

One day, at church (of course) while the sermon was going on I snuck out back with one of the cute church boys. Right behind the church while I am sure the Pastor was preaching about keeping yourself pure, I had my first kiss, or at least I think it was my first kiss. The thing is, the only important thing for me was knowing if I was any good at kissing. I knew the cute boy would never be into me and my charming personality. He wanted to see how far he could get with me and that was it. I knew this, even back then, but I did not care. In hindsight, it was better that way. Let me have my first kiss with someone who I am not attached to, so when I do have my first kiss with “The One” I will know if I am any good or not. Look, this was the logic of a 14-15-year-old me. It is also proof that I have always been competitive.

Now, fast forward about 14 years. Give or take. Joe and I have been dating for three months. He was always a complete gentleman. Seriously. In those three months the guy never even held my hand. I knew he was a keeper. I knew he was one of the good ones, and I knew I was falling for him hard.

One night he was over and we were playing a card game of Rummy, which I am exceptionally good at. I learned how to play from my sister, who is equally as competitive as I am.  Now, this is where Joe and I have different recollections of the events I am about to tell you. My version, also known as THE TRUTH, is I was winning. I was winning every hand and although he is not as competitive as I am, he is not that far behind. Joe would tell you that it was him that was winning, but that is not true. Please refer to my previous post where I talk about my impeccable memory.

So, Joe and I are “talking crap” to each other about the other losing. Just good fun times. One of us, (again, our stories differ, but I am right) had the idea of “Whoever loses the next hand has to initiate the first kiss.” He says it was my idea, I say it was his. Now would also be a good time to mention the fact that Joe has a horrible memory.

Naturally, he lost the hand of Rummy (because I am too good.) It was fun and then it was awkward. It’s not like I was going to be “Okay you have to kiss me now!” I mean I did rub it in that I won, but made no mention of “the bet.” As time was ticking away, Joe put his jacket on, “Well, it’s getting late. I have an early day tomorrow.” I followed him to the door, telling him I had a good time beating him in Rummy. He turned around, looked at me, asked if he could give me a hug. “Of course.” He put his arms me, and mine around him. As he pulled away, getting ready to open the door, he slowly came in for the kiss. It was perfect and fun, and sweet all rolled into one. As I watched him go down the stairs, I knew right then and there that I just had my last first kiss.


Jen called me last night, like clockwork.

“You need to do the 30-day blog thing with me!”

Oh boy. Let me tell you guys something. I am hanging on by a thread. Just finished with finals for school and work is…well work is mentally draining at times. I haven’t even got my Christmas tree up and I have a mountainous pile of laundry on my couch that needs to be folded.

Now Jen thinks I have the time or energy to write anything, let alone a blog.

“C’mon it will take 20 minutes…”

So, here I am writing a blog about my first kiss or my first love or some crap like that.

Here is the thing. I wasn’t your average teenage girl that was into boys. In fact, they weren’t really on my radar. I was more interested in hanging out with my friends, cruising the avenue Friday night, and going on adventures with my best friend Steph. I mean, I did hold hands with a boy when I was 14 for about 5 seconds, until my face turned red and my hand got sweaty. That was the beginning and the end of my high school romance. While most of my friends were figuring out who they were going to the dance with on Friday night, Steph and I were planning our Friday night around what kind of pizza we were going to order and where we were going to take a drive to. One night we got brave and went on the wrong side of town. With 2-Pac bumping on the speakers, we found ourselves amongst the drug dealers and prostitutes downtown. With the windows down at the stop light, we thought we were pretty cool until we heard “POP-POP!” We ducked down, thinking it was gunshots…there may have been some screaming too. She hit the gas and it was only then we realized it was merely a car backfiring and not gunshots. We laughed our asses off all the way back to the westside where it was safe for a couple of white girls that had no business in the hood. We still laugh about it to this day.

So back to the first kiss or my first love that I’m supposed to be writing about.

So, here’s the thing, I had to kiss quite a few frogs before I found the one.

I had to wait 9 long months for that kiss.

After being friends for a while and then dating for a few months, I waited patiently as each date we went on ended in a hug.

 I think we were both nervous, not sure how to proceed.

And then one day on my couch, it happened.

Everything stopped for a moment, time stood still.

I can remember it like it was yesterday.

It was the best first kiss.

Lucky for me, every kiss we have, feels like the very first time.



30 day writing challenge

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