The first time his lips touched mine, it sent a wave of shock down my spine. So passionate, yet gentle, and I can feel the flame inside of him burning through his touch. It was my first time kissed by a man. We had known each other for almost six weeks, being lab partners and spending those nights in the library writing those lab reports. At first, I find it annoying that he wanted to meet up and write our lab reports. After all, the lab report was individual work. However, after our second lab report, I didn’t mind meeting up in the library. It wasn’t like we meet up for every lab, but we would always get dinner before or after when we did. Even if I made plans to get dinner with my friends, he would always invite himself, and I didn’t mind. It was during one night when he asked me to go bowling and get dinner. Was it a date? According to my friends, it was, but for me, it was just time to destress myself and spend time with a great friend. After all, we have become friends, at least I thought we did.
The moment his lips touched mine, I got scared, but yet it was enjoyable. Inexperienced yet curious and wild, I kissed him back. It was amazing—a feeling I have never experienced. Perhaps, I did like him. He was cute, good looking, tall, smart, and kind. The way his rough hands caressed my face and glide across my back against my sweatshirt send me burning flames. For a short moment, I understood why people often wanted time to stop. It was a wonderful kiss that made us both smile–sincerely smile as we both made our feelings clear. Soon, we had each disclose our feelings to our friends, and one of his friends even informed me about his feelings and how long he had those feelings. My friends encouraged me to asked him out, but I was too scared. I have never known what it was like to have feelings for someone or have someone who liked me back.
All my life, boys were never interested in me. I was considered fat, ugly, and not what they wanted. Instead, I spent my time focusing on myself. My goals, making improvements to my life and working hard as a cow. So, I decided to wait for him. I thought if he genuinely liked me for who I am, he would make the first move. Nothing more happened, and we were back to being lab partners, spending a few more nights together writing labs and then dinner. I heard that another girl asked him out, but he kindly rejected her. For a short moment, I was hurt and then relieved. I had no idea what I was experiencing, but I pretended not to know and acted indifferently. I also convinced myself to focus on my education. No matter how hard I wanted to confront him about the kiss- he did kiss me first! I couldn’t. I have no idea where my courageous self went, so I waited for him to bring it up. Neither of us talked about the kiss. Then the semester flew by. The following semester we were in the same lab again, but this time unlike how he chose me to be his lab partner. The moment I stepped into that lab classroom, I chose another student to be my lab partner.
The next year and a half, we both sort of went our separate ways, but he would once in a while text me to see how I was doing. Sometimes we run into each other in the library or at the cafeteria, but we barely make eye contact. Somehow, we were beginning to become strangers again. Then, we had one last class together before our last semester. We were assigned as partners, and we spend most of our time doing our research together. It was awkward. Super awkward because I can feel those same feelings growing back inside of me. Feelings that I have long forgotten. Nearing graduation week, he finally confessed, but I rejected him. I don’t know what happened, but I told him no. For the first time in a long time, we made eye contact. I felt like I could feel his broken heart and soul just by the way he looked at me and how he tried to smile. Once again, we both went our separate ways.