Everyone has been there before. That aching question: "Can we be more than friends?" When you are in limbo trying to decide if you should turn a friendship into something more meaningful, a first kiss will do the trick. It will help answer that question and relieve that uncertainty. If nothing else, it is a clear sign of your intentions and where you want the relationship to progress. For some, it’s the first step in the right direction. For others, it’s a giant leap into a state of awkwardness. Is that an elephant in the room or is that just your lackluster kiss lingering on her lips that has left you both dazed and confused? Good luck trying to sidestep thru your embarrassment by talking about the weather.
For guys it’s pretty simple. The moment we lay eyes on girl, we know right then and there if we are sexually attracted to them or not. But for women, sometimes a sexual attraction builds up over a period of time. I’ve known many girls who will date guys who they didn’t immediately find attractive, but as they continued to get to know them, they found that attraction growing. "It’s their personality that makes them sexy", they’ll confess. I guess that just goes to show you that men base an initial attraction on outward appearance, whereas women tend to dig a bit deeper and find that sexual attraction lurking within.
As much as I would like to, I never bought into the theory that men and women can be strictly platonic friends. I think it’s nearly impossible and don’t try to convince me otherwise. If you don’t agree with that statement, you are either dumb, blind, or just terribly naïve. At least one of you is attracted and wants more, or at least has at some point. There is no denying that fact. I can’t speak for women but every guy I know, including myself, has had at least one dirty thought about every last one of his female friends. It’s in our DNA. We are hardwired to be like that. I may not act upon it, but I sure as hell have thought about it. Now perhaps that’s my fault and I should find a new batch of female friends that are less hot. Regardless, I just have a hard time buying into the "we’re just friends" line. The only thing a guy hates hearing more than that "let’s just be friends" line, is a girl trying to convince him that she and Joe Blow are just friends. I find that line incredibly sketchy, but maybe that’s because I’m feeling rather jaded lately and my anger is justified, along with my pessimistic outlook. It is understandable and perhaps that is why I feel so hateful about it. Whatever the case may be, any girl will have a hard time selling the "we’re just friends" line to me right now because I’m just not buying it.
When asked about my first kiss, I drew a blank. I’ve had lots of first kisses, but what about my very first kiss, ever? For the life of me, I couldn’t recall it. Of course the jokes started and implications of me being a manwhore were brought into question as reason being why I am unable to recall my very first kiss. "You can’t remember your first kiss? No surprise there!", she teased. It can’t just be me. Surely others have forgotten their first kiss too? I have a good memory and I recall many firsts in my life, like losing my virginity. Although vivid in my mind, that is a memory I would surely like to forget. But my very first kiss ever, I really had to scratch my brain to come up with the answer. I took a trip down memory lane, all the way back to grade school. The asphalt playground - that is where my first kiss ever took place.
We were in the 2nd grade, or maybe it was the 3rd grade? That part is a little foggy to me, but the little girl’s blue eyes are crystal clear to me, like a cloudless summer day. I can still see them. So innocent and pure. And a total pervert! It was more like a series of kisses. One right after another. Again. And again. And again. The girl was relentless! These days, I probably would enjoy that type of endless pursuit and persistency from a girl. But back then, I was not only embarrassed by it, I was repulsed by it as well. It was like a game to her, try to catch me and kiss me. Everytime she succeed, she would shout the total number of kisses she had accumulated on me. "26! 26 kisses for David! I kissed him 26 times!" She would belly over in a fit of laughter. Those little high pitch screams and girly giggles. She took the utmost delight in turning my face ten shades of red. Obviously I must not have been a very fast runner because I don’t know what my problem was. How could a girl not only catch me, but kiss me that much! She never tired of the game. Even when we would line back up after recess to go back into the school, she would sneak in another! Of course my face resonated my disgust as I deliberately wiped off her wet kisses from my abused cheek. Why did this girl like me so much and why did it bring her so much pleasure when it brought me so much pain? I didn’t like girls then. They had cooties and I didn’t want them touching me, let alone kissing me on the lips or either cheek in serial fashion!
One day I had enough. No more kisses I told myself. I would no longer allow this behavior. I decided to stop running. I stopped dead in my tracks, right by the monkey bars. She nearly barreled into me. And when she saw the easy opening, she leaned in for kiss #5 that day. "Stop it!", I screamed at her. She seemed a bit stunned, although not willing to stop. She proceeded to kiss me anyway and I screamed out again - "I hate you!" Her eyes immediately began to well up, but before a single tear could roll down her round face infront of me, she turned around and ran away. Even at such a young age, I knew I had done something horribly wrong. I was only about 4 feet tall, but I felt smaller than a speck of dirt. How could I blurt out those words? It was beyond cruel. She merely liked me. She had committed no crime. The words "I hate you" should never be words anyone has to hear, especially from someone they like so much.
The next day at recess she didn’t try to kiss me. She didn’t chase me and she didn’t even talk to me. Now it was probably her who hated me! I don’t know where the bravery nor the maturity came from, but I sat down on a swing next to her and told her I was sorry. I told her I don’t really hate her. And then I asked the burning question..."But why do you always have to kiss me?" Her reply was nothing short of absolutely adorable. "Because you’re fun to kiss." It was so simple and so honest. I had nothing to say to that but a big dopey "oh".
***NOTE***
(This post has inspired me to try something new. So you’ll notice I’m starting a series of posts on my blog appropriately labeled "A Series Of Firsts". "The First Kiss" post was the first in that series. In the future, I will also be including my first date, the first time I had sex, my first love, and of course my first heartbreak. I apologize if my first kiss didn’t live up to the steamy story you were hoping it would be. That story would coincide with my best/favorite kiss, although that borderlines on porn and that’s just not something I’m going to get into today. Maybe I’ll save that tale for another time.)
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