I was 15, he was 18. I’d known him for 2 years and I loved him from the very day I met him. We spent everyday of that two years together but we were never actually “together”. I was “like a sister” in his eyes. (God, I really hate that line.) He had decided to stay at my house one night (he and my brothers were friends) and we were all hanging out in my brother’s room. A. and S. (my brothers) went outside to get high and left J. and me alone. Completely to my surprise, he kissed me. I had waited for that kiss for two years and I never wanted it to end. A [sub][sup]fairly large[/sub][/sup] part of me still wishes it hadn’t but I like to tell myself I’m better off.
I’m not sure if this kiss meant the most, but thinking about it makes me smile.
I was in 11th grade, and at a party at a guy’s house. I had a crush on this guy for about 2 years, and knew I had no chance whatsoever with him, and had settled on being “just friends”. (Don’t you HATE that phrase??)
I was stepping into his bathroom, and he followed me inside. I said, “Um, excuse me, but I gotta go pee.” {11th graders are real smooth :rolleyes:} He said, “I know, but I gotta do this first”. He closed the door and grabbed me and kissed me like in the movies. Yowza!!
I have no clue why he did it, since we didn’t speak of it after the fact. He got back together with his girlfriend shortly thereafter, and we were still “just friends”. Except for the fact that I FINALLY got to sleep with him about 3 years later, and then he got married. But that’s another story kids, it’s bedtime now. 