first kiss.

first kiss.

because we’re kiss addicts.

I’ve had my own fantasies ever since I was a kid. I imagined my first kiss would be as romantic as how it’s usually portrayed in books and movies. I always wondered how it felt. Does it taste good? Is it weird? Will I crave it?

In my mind, things were always perfect and romantic. My brain kept filtering realism to deceive me and protect my innocence, just like how novels made me believe that love is always pretty.

Kissing is weirdly addicting, I know that now. It doesn’t taste like strawberry, but “it tastes good” still describes it best more than anything. It’s ironically not as disgusting as getting spat by others’ saliva. It is strangely greater than that.

With the way I knew myself and how I loved kissing and being kissed, I also knew I was doomed when my eyes were starting to linger too much on your lips while you talk about the most unrelated subject about kissing. And right there, I never stopped imagining how our first kiss would be.

I somehow felt guilty that you were there, just telling me that your dream is to taste all kinds of chocolates in the world. Meanwhile, I was fantasizing about tasting chocolate on your tongue. You are so precious, and in front of you is just a girl who wants to kiss you. Maybe I fell in love with you way earlier than I realized.

But no, our first kiss wasn’t me knowing the taste of chocolate on your tongue. Instead, it was your lips brushing on the back of my palm.

“I’ll do this before I regret not doing it,” you said as you brought my hand — that was intertwined with yours — to your lips.

Then we exchanged goodbyes because it was already getting late. We usually just shake hands and smile at each other before I turn around. But this time, I couldn’t let go of you with the hand you just kissed tonight. I wanted us to kiss but the heavens said no. At least, not yet. And you pulled me closer to hug me and kissed my head.

This is more than enough, I thought. Maybe we should just wait for the right night for our lips to touch each other. But that won’t happen tonight and that’s okay. Because you gave me more than what I needed.

That right night came and we were both slightly intoxicated by alcohol. We stayed outside until the streets were all quiet — enough for us to hear each other’s sighs and heartbeats. We took our time until it wears out. We weren’t drunk, but we were riskier. I also knew I was ready to let you if you would. I knew if I wake up tomorrow with this memory of you, I would giggle.

I only wanted to kiss your chin, but you looked down and it made me hit your lips. I got shy and tried to walk out of the scene. But you pulled me gently, just enough to urge me to kiss you properly tonight before I say goodbye. I wouldn’t miss this chance. You were already there. All I need to do is just tiptoe and it would answer all the thngs I had been wondering since I found out you love chocolates.

Our lips touched and it felt like the longest five seconds of my life. We pulled away, covered our faces, and turned around out of embarrassment. We were both laughing. You went behind the car that was parked near where we were standing, and I went to another car’s side mirror so hide myself.

For once, I felt like I was new to this. As if I never really knew what’s the art of kissing until you. I felt like a high school discovering intimacy for the first time. After all, the novels I’ve seen, as well as my brain, did not deceive me at all. It’s was justs good as how my innocent mind perceived it.

Now I can say that kissing is addicting for a reason. I get to hear you laugh, feel your smile against my lips, and share the warmth of my love. It feels the best with you. I guess I have finally answered my fantasies.

Your kiss tastes better than strawberries and chocolates. But instead of telling you that, I’ll just say I love you. I am sure of that now.