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3AM - 19 and Never Been Kissed

4AM - The Event

I'm not straight and gender is a joke, cheers to adversity against my identity.

Let me just preface this by saying 1) I have no judgment for having your first kiss younger or older and 2) I am the last person I expected this to happen to. But you probably don't know what I'm talking about. Don't worry, we'll get there. 

Hey. I'm that "almost" adult that has had a ton of life experience in pretty much every single category but dating. I've moved to places around the world, dealt with adversity against my identity, and been privy to depression and anxiety as most people deal with those at some point in their lives. Unluckily for me, it's been my whole life (insert shrug here). 

All of this being true, there's always been that one thing steady on my mind - I want my first kiss. I'm at the age where I have multiple friends getting engaged, married, or finding their partner for the first time. It's amazing, and my heart has so much happiness for these people I love like family. However, within that is the another - a feeling of envy. I want that. I want the relationship, the ups and downs, the late night talks, the early morning coffee before work. Even the fights over the trivialities in the life. I want all of it. 19 is young for a relationship that serious but as a self proclaimed (introspective) introvert, I feel like the only person I know anything about for sure is myself. That's definitely useful in this wide world of courtship. Or so I thought.

*Earlier that day*

Today, at around 4 o'clock in the morning, I had my first kiss. Or should I say, my first 3 kisses. That's right, 3. Three separate humans decided to kiss my previously un-kissed self at a party. It's college, right? Bound to happen? Crazy stories we'll tell our children? Something to that extent? No. I'm not excited that this is a truth I hold. I didn't want to be kissed by people I'd only just met. I didn't want my first kiss story to be this. And sure, you can say that they didn't count but the action happened. I was kissed, they did count, and that pisses me off. Can I say that here? Look, I'm an honest person. I spent a chunk of my life hiding behind lies that I thought would keep me safe, but all they did was hurt me. And so now, my truths are that much more important to me. Some people may be thinking I'm blowing this out of proportion. It was just kissing. No making out, no French details, just 3 pecks. That's logical.

Is anxiety logical? Um. NO. Of freakin course not. So here I am, this anxious introvert that doesn't ever initiate conversations with new people - and what happens? I, out of all people, become the person to lose my first kiss to someone I met an hour before it happened? That's not exactly a bragging right. Like I said, I'm the last person I'd expect to be in this situation and yet, here the freak I am. You may be thinking, this is awfully personal to put out in public and on the Internet? You're not wrong. But considering what I just wrote, it's not as if I've anything to gain or lose. I keep looking in the mirror expecting my lips to look different. I don't feel the same. I shouldn't...because I'm not. Kissing isn't always a big deal but for someone like me, it's something I've spent years thinking about. It's something I thought I'd do once - with whoever ends up being my person. I was saving it for someone that I cherished, and who in turn also cherished me. And thanks to the college experience, and being in the wrong place at the wrong time, I've lost that. Hear me when I say I didn't gain kissing experience with this. I lost my ability to give a gift to my person. I lost the ability to say I've only kissed a person I care for. 

I've gained pain. Not something I've ever been short on. I have guilt on my heart because not only did I not know any of these people, but one of them is (was?) in a relationship. She had her person. And she still kissed me. Home wrecker wasn't a title I ever wanted to acquire. Not that I have, I mean who knows? I don't. I don't know anything. The thing about inexperience, is it makes me want to try bits of life I'm probably not ready for. So I guess the moral of this story is whatever the heck you want it to be because I certainly couldn't find a positive message here. How does the saying go? “My lips got lost on the way to the kiss - that's how drunk I was.” ~Jalaluddin Rumi

Cheers to mistakes, 

BlueJaye

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