Arabica

Everybody have their own favorite memory from their first love. Mine would probably be my first kiss.
I’m not sure if I can even call it a kiss. It was more like a peck. One that made me blush every time I remember.
.
I always knew I wouldn’t end up with him. I always knew our relationship was temporary and would eventually end, because that’s just how most first loves are. However, I was so deeply invested that I didn’t really care about the ending— I just enjoyed every moments while it last.
.
It might not make much sense, but my first love wasn’t my first boyfriend. I was quite popular back then, so I changed boyfriends like they’re plastic bags. I changed boyfriends so often, yet I never let anyone stole my first kiss. I always wanted it to be with someone special.  Because? Because I valued myself highly. I knew it should be an honor to be my first love and have my first kiss.
He was probably the second boyfriend I had that year. The longest relationship I had in my adolescence. 10 memorable months. 
.
So, where were we? Ah! First kiss!
We were on a picnic date. It was a beautiful day in a beautiful park. The sky was blue with white pretty clouds here and there. The grass smelled amazing. He looked dazzling. He dressed like a McDreamy— you know, the kind of style  you’d imagine  from a lead male character in a romance novel.

We were talking about the future. What would it feel like to be college kids. What would we want to do 10 years from now. Just the usual talk, nothing special. 
I was looking at him as he explained lengthy about his favorite music. His side profile was mesmerizing. His eyes were bright and pure.
Suddenly, he turned his head to me. He smiled and asked, “Do I have ketchup on my face?”
I shook my head, then I went for a peck. Lips to lips. 3 seconds. That’s it.


(Writer’s note : Inspired by IU ‘Through The Night’)