30 Day Writing Challenge. Day 10: Discuss your first love and your first kiss

My first love was a boy I dated for three weeks.

This boy used to stay in the floor below mine and was crazy charming and intelligent and three years older. I knew him since I was in 5th grade. He had an oversmart mother and he thought no end of himself. I of course, being the cool and kickass fifth grader that I was didn’t fall in this ‘trap’.

We both grew up and had our falls and our relationship. We started talking again when I was in 8th grade and he 11th. At that point, I liked someone else. Very very very much. And the Mr. Obnoxious walked in and flirted his way into my very gullible and ‘give-me-love-and-shower-me-with-attention’ heart. He asked me out and we began dating. I of course still liked that other boy but well the ‘playaah’ that I was continued with this relationship. Then one night he and I realized that this just wasn’t ‘meant to be’ and he left after the most beautiful break up and that was it. That night I fell in love with this boy. Of course now I wonder if it was just ‘the thrill of the chase’ for me. So for the next seven months I hoped and prayed he would come back to me. That this time we would magically work. We were in the same school and during those seven months he became the school captain and changed. He changed from the funny, nice, charming him to a jackass, charming him. In my head though, we were meant to be. Everything he said or did was a sign to me. A sign that he ‘loves’ me. Of course that was faar from the truth.

Now in those seven months a huge sign was missed by me. His best friend hit on me and I thought that he did (He being BFF) really liked me, I tried to convince myself that I did too. We ‘dated’ or something like that for two weeks. Of course all he cared about was getting into my pants, which never happened. He though did manage to become one of the main topic of writing of this post. My first kiss.

I do want to give you a magical re-telling of how when our lips first touched the world burst and the universe engulfed us and it was just him and me on a pink cloud with dancing ponies all around us.


That is a lie. What really happened was 5 minutes behind some garage, him pinning my hands on the wall and kissing me and me wondering why the books lies about kisses because this sucked. No rainbows and butterflies, just mosquitoes biting my leg, the sound of traffic interfering with my thoughts and this kiss just not ending. My first kiss, humans, was a complete and utter fail. So were many afterwards, till well boyfriend number 7. That slightly had butterflies involved and how.

Of course, here there was no love.


Now let’s come back to the love story. So I was crazy about Mr. Obnoxious and secretly hoped he was crazy about me too. It wasn’t like he serenaded me or charmed my socks off or held me like I was precious or anything that makes people fall for other people. I loved him because he broke up with me. Because he mended me by letting me go. I thought that this boy was the boy for me.

This. Never. Happened.



I just couldn’t wait around for him anymore, so I started talking to him. And he came over that evening and no one was home and the first time touched me like I had never been touched. As romantic as that sounds, it wasn’t. It wasn’t a touch I like re-visiting via memory. He left and so did the part of me that loved him. I cried the whole of that evening, for a lost love and a lost me. We broke up the next day because obviously ‘he just wasn’t that into me’.

The rumour mills were working again and for two years people believed a lot he said about me that never happened. Even then, I compared my next two lovings to my love for Mr. Obnoxious.

Today Mr. O and I still talk and he still flirts every once in a while but I feel nothing. They say your first love will always be a part of you and you will always love them no matter what, just a bit. I don’t think that happened to me. I think that part of me died that evening or just numbed.

My first kiss was far from magic. It was boring and dull.

My first love was just that. MY first love. Nothing more and nothing less.

Today of course I define love differently. It isn’t tough or hurtful or difficult. It is easy and romantic and uncompromising. It’s beautiful. My first love might have been him but the first time in my life where I feel love everywhere and in me and outside me and in everything in the world is now. Maybe love changes everytime and maybe this time is my first too because honestly


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