To Every Man I've Ever Kissed Part 1

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I've been a bit neglectful of my blog recently, but that's because not much has been happening to me and also because the things that have been happening to me I don't want to (or can't) blog about yet. I read a similar one of these posts on Thought Catalogue and really liked the idea so thought I'd do one of my own. Things are going to get personal and I do hope you won't judge me too harshly-believe me I've spent enough time doing that to myself. It's in two parts basically coz it's really long, which is surprising (for me) given that it only talks about 5ish people.
Here we go then, a letter to every man I've ever kissed, part 1:

To the very, very first;

We were in school together and you always let me catch you when we played kiss-chase. We were “boyfriend and girlfriend” for all of infant school and probably entirely too adorable too.

I saw you, not too long ago actually, on a bus. You clearly had no idea who I was but I remembered because I never forget a face and had to smile to myself. You have a weird accent now (I would guess from uni?) but your voice is still the same. You smoked a cigarette at the bus stop-eugh, lucky escape.

To my first, proper kiss;

I was 14ish and miserable because all my close friends had boyfriends and that was everything I really wanted. You were 17ish (I think) and we met at Explorers (Scouts). I can’t remember all the intricacies but I remember the first kiss. We were sat on your bed watching Futurama and we kissed for hours. I have to confess it wasn’t the best kiss in the world-there was a lot of slobber. I kept reapplying my lip balm because you were drying my lips out and you hated the texture. To this day I still don’t really like saliva and I hear you still hate Vaseline too-fair’s fair I guess.
I’m sorry that I wasn’t the person you wanted me to be-but I was just a teenager who wanted to be wanted-I had no idea what love was, not then. I can only hope your kissing technique has improved by now though.

To my first love;

We were too cute together, I’m sure. So chronically nervous about admitting our feelings to each other that my friend gave you her phone so you could text me to ask me out. Your hands were too big for the tiny buttons, so in the end she did it for you-an unorthodox start, I'll admit. I texted back my response and that was it, we were a couple. We spent a lot of time nuzzling and snuggling and probably being incredibly insensitive and ignorant to our friends. Your stubble used to mess my hair up when you rested your chin on my head (ever after known as the Velcro Effect) but I was too smitten to care. I remember one time when it started raining really suddenly when we were in town-everyone else scattered for cover but we stood kissing in the middle of the downpour like we had just stepped straight out of a film or something.

Honestly though, I can’t really remember what your kisses felt like. Towards the end of our relationship we stopped doing anything other than a swift peck on the lips and I remember missing those times at the start when we just used to kiss for hours and hours. Basically we just slowly unravelled to the point where we didn’t know each other anymore and no amount of pretending would save us. I’m sort of sad to say I can’t even remember our last kiss.

To Mr. Intermediate;

I can still remember what I said to you after you first kissed me: “Well if someone had been watching us all morning they’d be cheering now we’ve finally kissed!”-it did feel pretty inevitable. And of course, we shouldn’t have and I felt bad for doing so-but that didn’t stop me doing it again. I was pretty conflicted at this point-Mr. First Love and I were falling apart at the seams and I was so starved of affection that flirting with you, kissing you, seemed like a good idea at the time. You said all the things that I desperately wanted to hear and I just gave in to that in the end. I was terrified of losing him, of having to learn to be on my own, even with my lips glued (literally, they were quite sticky kisses...) to another man’s face I still thought I loved him and couldn’t be without him. I know you wanted me desperately and would have been mine in a second if I’d asked, but I have to confess I’m not sure I ever, properly, wanted you. 

We spent maybe 6, 9 months sneaking around and kissing illicitly and I started to hate myself more and more-I didn’t like the person you were turning me into.  I can’t remember when we stopped, or why, but my crushing sense of guilt probably had a lot to do with it.
We tried to stay friends but you wanted me all to yourself and I wasn’t prepared to give that, so we parted ways, none too amicably either.
For a while, you were my only (big) regret but now I’ve given up on that-I’d rather think that everything that’s happened in the past has helped to make me who I am today. At the time, I needed it, because it paved the way for what was to happen next. 

And you'll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out what that was, sorry.

-Jenni-