The kiss
They said,
“Your first kiss will feel like fireworks.”
Mine?
Felt like I was drowning…
in someone else’s saliva.
No violins.
Just bad breath
and the sound of my standards running for their lives.
God save me.
If this is romance,
I’ll stick to high-fives.
The start
Okay.
Let’s be real for a sec.
Back then, I blamed it on my naivety.
Like—maybe if I read the “How to Kiss” manual,
highlighted the good parts,
practiced in front of the mirror,
it would feel like the books say it will.
You know…
Fire rising within me.
Chills racing down my spine.
Stars exploding above our heads.
Instead,
it felt like…
my face was drowning.
Because let’s be honest,
swallowing your partner’s saliva,
is not in any romantic novel I’ve read.
And yet… somehow…
people are out here enjoying it.
Including you.
Like it’s some gourmet soup you’ve been saving for winter.
So, here’s my question:
If society didn’t sell us the “kissing is magical” starter pack,
would you really want to do it?
Or would you just high-five people and call it a day?
Because me?
That first kiss,
I didn’t hear violins.
I heard bad breath.
And maybe, maybe
the sound of my dignity packing its bags.
God save me.
Ibi Niki nishoyemo?
is this the romance everyone’s been hyping?
Or do I just need to
risk salmonella
and try again?