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When I was little (well littler) I had convinced myself
That when you have your first kiss
Fireworks go off in your heart.
Your mind is filled with happiness and
you just feel... Something.
So when it didn't happen I jumped on my scooter, rushed home and cried.
Because he was the love of my life
yet I felt nothing.
But then I was fucking ten.
The next time I thought I knew what love was I expected that feeling.
Like the movies-
Fairy tales are called so for a reason.
Nothing happened and it didn't the next boyfriend either.
By the time kissed my first girlfriend I had given up on childish dreams.
You've probably guessed the ending by now.
And I want nothing more than to tell you that I still don't but I do like feeling your lips softly against mine.
Roughly against mine.
Warning: cliche alert.
When you walked over to me, held my body and kissed me for the first time everything stopped.
I've never told you how much that kiss meant to me.
How important that kiss was.
And if you felt nothing magically then I guess I sound like an idiot
but I did.
For the first time an emotion washed over my whole body.
I felt hope.
Hope? You ask.
And I guess it's a weird emotion to associate with kissing.
It feels like getting drunk at 2am
but not because I'm sad.
It feels like crying over a grade or essay
without wanted to kill myself.
Like being around pencil sharpeners without
new scars on my wrist.
It feels like lying in our bed whispering,
"Look at us. We made it."
Copyright © Teenage Frustrations