My first Kiss : I Wish it Never Fades
She puts her hands on either side of my face, and the room falls away. I have never gotten so lost in a kiss before. And then, the space between us explodes. My heart keeps missing beats and my hands cannot bring her close enough to me. I taste her and realize I have been starving. I have loved before, but it didn’t feel like this. I have kissed before, but it didn’t burn me alive. Maybe it lasts a minute, and maybe it’s an hour. All I know is that kiss, and how soft her skin is when it brushes against mine, and that even if I did not know it until now, I have been waiting for this person forever.
hope we last. I hope we do. But if we don’t, this is how I want you to remember me:
I want you to remember me curled up, listening to the sound of your heartbeat and tracing maps across your skin. Remember me laughing at your jokes, even the stupid ones. Remember me in hysterics for absolutely no reason and in tears because one time you made me so sad neither of us thought I’d recover.
Remember me brave, that time you held my hand and I thought I was going to die; remember me scared and gentle and delicate and breakable – only for you though, only for you. Remember me happy, and all the ridiculous ways I tried to get your attention. Remember the way I was too stubborn to talk to you and how absolutely insane it drove the both of us. Remember all the firs. and how they were so delightful we went back for seconds and thirds and fourths.
Remember the songs you couldn’t stop listening to and the childish dreams you allowed yourself about the future. If it’s any consolation 1 allowed myself to have them too.
If it comes to it I don’t want vote to remember the ending. Remember the beginning. for the first time you knew.”
“But you see, love isn’t always flowers and chocolates. It isn’t always afternoon cuddles or laughing together at two in the morning. Sometimes it’s crying and begging them to stay. Sometimes it’s screaming at the wall because you heard something you didn’t want to hear and a part of you just breaks inside.
Sometimes it’s staying up all night, wondering why you wasn’t enough. Or it’s sometimes self doubting yourself because you want to know what she had that you didn’t.
It’s sometimes scrubbing your skin at four in the morning in the shower, trying to wash away their smell and it’s sometimes wanting to rip every part of your skin apart just because you couldn’t bear the thought that their hands had once touched you.
It’s not being able to look at yourself in the mirror because you can’t stand the fact that you couldn’t make them stay. And it’s drinking until you can’t remember their name or its smoking until that hole inside of you fades away for awhile. Love isn’t always fucking romantic. It’s painful and it’ll sometimes tear you the fuck apart.”