Two "Firsts" in One Boy
I remember the sweet intoxicating scent that wafted off him. I will bask in the tempting taste of his mouth forever. My first real kiss was shared with him that night. The only other time was stolen during an attempt to take my virginity, but that's another story. Back to the story at hand. Though the boy and I, who I still think of are no longer friends. It doesn't mean I didn't enjoy every moment that I felt his touch. I will always smell that odd cologne that he wore too much of.
The way we both had made awkward movement of our hands. The way that we were so wrong yet so right for each other. The way his hands fast moving but in the same since slowed with passion.
I will judge all my kisses to his. All the guys I ever date will be compare to him. Every hand will be measure for strength and tenderness beside his.
I still watch him, throwing absent-minded insults his way. I look into his eyes still, usually with a sarcastic smile, and try not to let him see me melting into those milk chocolate eyes. I know that he doesn't like me anymore but I know, no matter how many times he says it, he doesn't hate me. I sigh when away from his attempts to drown me in his sea of insults.
I know where it when wrong. Its long past due to try and fix it so I cease to bother thinking of that. Even though I blame my tear-stained pillowcase on him I know that he was on of the memories that kept me from death. His words do make me cry but I, somehow, know that they are only half-hearted. The only thing I would change is the way we treat each other now well and tell him not to wear so much damn cologne.