So, here I am, about to kiss him. The summer sun setting, it’s everything that a first kiss should be, we just float in this brief moment before our lips touch. Yet, I feel guilty.
Let me roll it back before I move ahead.
I was that kid who would stay in during the summer months, I had friends but we all preferred indoor activities; video games, board games, television, and movies. There was a group of us and we spent every moment together that we could. Whilst most kids loved the summer, that break away, that euphoric sense of freedom away from school and going out exploring their hometown, finding the cracks within it and breaking something to make it their own; I was never that person. I didn’t like finding the cracks, and I didn’t like the lack of structure that came with the summer months. The one thing that kept me going during that time was my friends, we’d have our group get together every Thursday night when all of our parents went out together. The oldies would have their meal out and we’d order in and roll the dice to see who would pick what we’d do that evening. It was a tradition that lasted right up until we were seventeen, and then we started drifting, some got partners and their lives changed, others got jobs, or moved away, and some went on to study. But, for me, I stayed where I was, I finished high school and took a gap year to try and figure out where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do and in the second month of figuring this out it all happened, overnight everyone I knew disappeared.
Now, this was years ago, and at this point in time I’m about to kiss this handsome gentleman in front of me, his brown hair lighter than usual in the July sun, the water dripping from my hair as I lean in closer to him and my sense of loss is rearing its ugly head.
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