He was my first kiss. I had to be in love with him right? What am I saying... Of course I was in love with him. His eyes were captivating, his smile brought out mine even on my bad days. I looked for his zodiac on those stupid little TikToks, I rushed to check my phone thinking it might be him. He's the first person I checked to see who has viewed my Snapchat story. I talk about him unintentionally to my friends all the time. Of course I was in love with him. I think the real question is was he ever in love with me?
Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic leeching onto any boy willing enough to give me attention.
So do it, call me greedy, desperate, hungry. Call me what you will but just know that deep down, I only crave love. The type I find in books and movies. The type of love that starts with two teens and ends with grey hair and wrinkled smiles. The type of love that is soul-shattering 'till death do us part' love. But I know better than this, and sometimes I wish I didn't. Yes, I am aware that boys in this world don't just show up to your door, flowers in hand on first dates. They don't take you to a small hill where they gaze at you under the midnight sky. They definitely wouldn't take a bullet for you if that were to keep you safe. They cannot do any of those. They cannot love me like that. Especially when they can't even text me back in real life. Which leads me right back to square one. Him.
Where do I even begin with him? Um. Jeez, for someone who loves words as much as me, it sure is funny how much they have failed me when it comes to him. Perhaps he was just in the right place at the right time. When I was at my lowest wondering if I was even worthy of even a slight chance at love. That one night changed how I was to view the world for what will be the rest of my life. Let me get straight to the point. Our story was never destined to have a happy ending, don't bother getting your hopes up like I did. So I guess you wouldn't be surprised when I say the world suddenly feels so dull, for he was the reason everything felt so bright beyond my closed eyes. And now, as I sit here writing this, I realise that nothing I can say, write or do can bring you back to me. You never think that the last time is the last time. You think there will always be more. You think you have forever even. But trust me, you really don't.
Oh fuck it. I need to stop doing this. This isn't some sappy sob-story love novel. I keep romanticising the shit in my life that I can't control. My life isn't the perfect love story that I make it out to be in my head. I'm sick of the unrealistic bullshit relationships in my damn books. I've had enough. Picture this. When I walk into a room, no heads turn. When I speak, no one listens. When I fall, no one helps me up. I thought he did, but all along he was looking at someone else, he was really just talking over me, and he picked me up, but only to throw me back down. Let's get this straight now. Yes, he was my first kiss but let me tell you how it really went down. It just so happened that I snapped him at that moment and he asked me to come and hang out. It could have been any unlucky girl, but it just had to be me. There I was sitting on a shady park bench under the cover of darkness with his fingers tracing their way down my side and his lips making messy tracks along my skin. He was so far from perfect that my mind tricked itself. I didn't fall in love with him at all, but a version of him that I made in my head. I fell in love with the made-up romantic scenarios, I fell in love with the non-existent conversations of nothingness. I fell in love with this version of him, but a him that loved me back.
So now I ask you ___. Why did you have to go and fucking kiss me?
