We were both standing there, awkwardly on my front porch. We'd extended the night as long as we could. From dinner, to walking all about downtown, to failing to find a place for a drink three times before we finally found somewhere we could actually hear one another. I remember being so nervous the entire night, I could barely look you in the eye. I kept doing that nervous giggle... so embarrassing. You made me feel better by telling an embarrassing story about something you'd done that day. You let me know how nervous you'd been to meet me too.
I'd wanted to kiss you the whole night. The compulsion seemed to come from no where, but there it was. I took the lead, and I don't regret it. I still wonder if you would have kissed me if I hadn't said anything. If I hadn't referenced a scientific study, then had to explain the damn thing because who the hell does that to let someone know they want to be kissed?
I felt that kiss down to my toes. I liked the way you felt, tasted.
The rest of the story, well- we did our best to flub it, didn't we? I'll get to keep the kiss though. The euphoria surrounding that moment.
You'd think we'd learn how to get out of our own ways. To forgive, to trust, to try. The good thing is though, in moments like that kiss, none of that matters.
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