In the first chapter of Shrilugh, we get to experience a girl’s first kiss. It’s a good kiss. A sweet kiss, an innocent kiss.
We should all have first kisses like that.
My own first kiss wasn’t anything like that.
Welcome to Myndi’s Awkward Adolescence.
I was a freshman in high school. The boy, who shall remain nameless, was a senior. I’d chosen to ‘go out’ with him (‘go out’ is in quotes because I technically wasn’t allowed to date until I was sixteen) for lots and lots of shallow reasons, but the shallowist (word?) reason of all was that I knew it’d piss my sister (who was also a senior, and his friend) off.
I was a piece of work back then.
Here’s the thing about dating a boy you don’t really like: you begin to dread everything. Seeing him in the halls at school. Talking to him on the phone. The inevitable first kiss.
Breaking up with him would have been the right thing to do, but there was a chance my folks might let him take me to prom…
…and that would have really pissed my sister off.
Again, piece of work.
So I pretended to like him. And then he kissed me.
There was no sweet tucking of my hair behind my ear, no soft pressing of lips to mine. No, he went at it like I’d choked on a Jolly Rancher and it was his duty to retrieve it…with his tongue.
It scared me straight.
I broke up with him the next week. And swore off boys. The idea of having to go through that again was just…too much. It also occurred to me that dating just to piss off my sister might be irresponsible. Especially when there were plenty of other ways to annoy her.
Still a piece of work, but it was a first step toward a better Myndi.
Five years later I met the Hubster. A few months after that he gave me my second first kiss. It was a good kiss. A sweet kiss, an innocent kiss. An I’m-kissing-you-because-I-really-really-like-you kiss.
Now it’s your turn to spill. What was your first kiss like? Phenomenal? Nightmare inducing? Lukewarm? Let’s dish!