Ok. Maybe this is childish of me. Maybe it’s an overshare. Maybe it’s nothing you all care about, but I just really can’t help myself. Seriously. I feel twelve all of the sudden.
I kissed a boy! I kissed a boy!! I! Kissed! A! Boy!
Why am I so excited about this? What, you mean besides the fact of the kissing? Well, it’s because for once, patience has TOTALLY paid off and also I was pretty surprised because I never thought we’d end up kissing. Oh, and also, because I looooooooove kissing.
He’s sort of shy. He’s got divorce baggage (but apparently, ALL the guys I’m interested in do – is it a product of the age? Whatever). We’ve been having platonic fun together for two years. TWO. YEARS. I thought he was hot the day I met him. And thus far, I have curbed my natural overt flirtatiousness because I liked hanging out with him and I didn’t want things to get “wheird”. I was going to let him make the first move, even if it never ever happened. I was beginning to think it would never ever happen. I would like to pat myself on the back for my remarkable show of self control. FOR TWO YEARS.
Anyway, on Valentine’s Day, we were talking on the phone and he’s like “come over and we’ll go to the bar and I’ll buy you a drink for Valentine’s Day.” So I did. We hung out there for a while, talking like usual, and then he hugged me and kissed me on the lips. I didn’t think much of it, because he’s done that before. I thought more of it later when he leaned over and REALLY kissed me. Luckily we were sitting in chairs with backs, because otherwise, I might have fallen over from the sheer shock of it all. We eventually left and went back to his house where there was more kissing. I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t. Did anything else happen besides the kissing? Ha. I’m not telling.
And really, I can’t think of a better way to spend Valentine’s Day. Mwah hahahahahahaaaaaa. Awesome.