If I have to hear that 3Oh3! song with Ke$ha in it again, I will scream. Then no one will want to kiss me.
I have been thinking a lot about kissing. The idea of kissing, not actually kissing a person. That would require leaving my desk and frankly I'm far to busy enjoying my side-projects and my job to do that right now.
What I've been floating around on the brain waves are first kisses. Any first kiss. The first time you ever kissed another person in your whole life, or the first time you kissed a particular someone. The anticipation of what it might be like, the pride that someone wants to put their mouth on yours, the nervous flip you do through your mind wondering if you brushed your teeth. Its a strange thing, kissing. It can make you feel connected to a person or even the place its happening. It can disconnect you from all that surrounds you, and it can tear away emotions you thought you may have felt toward someone.
My first ever kiss was hardly perfect and was under the pretenses that many an American teen has had: Around the bonfire at sleep away camp egged on by friends during a game of truth or dare. I remember that he was a year older than me, but looked a bit like an overgrown toddler with large blue eyes, pink cheeks, and brown curls. The moment before our mouths touched I could sense everyones eyes on us, there must have been hesitation on my part because he practically launched himself at me. I broke it off after a few seconds, laughing along with everyone else trying to play it cool. All I kept thinking was that I had someone else's spit inside my mouth, and if my mother would find out and then what would she think.
So readers...tell me about your first kiss. You can answer anonymously if you want to.