To Every Man I've Ever Kissed, Part 2

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This is the (considerably shorter) half of this two part blog. You can read part 1 here if you want to read it , which covers right from when I was 6 to when I was 18. This one picks up where that one ended, and takes me right up to today, and was the harder half to write for sure. But then again it would be, because it's covering my most recent ex-a tale you've all heard before and one I'm doing my best not to dwell on too much any more. Succeeding mostly too.
Here's part two then:

To My Second Love;

It’s weird, I can’t remember our first kiss at all-I was still with Mr. #1 (though by this stage I don’t really know why) and it evolved as a goodbye peck on the lips-how I hadn't clicked that I majorly had the hots for you by then I just don't know. I remember the first proper ones though-I remember nearly everything about ‘Superhero Night’ actually, although I bet you've forgotten every detail. I remember holding the curtain open to let the moonlight illuminate your face and realising just how much I liked you, and that I didn’t feel guilty about it. It was finally time for me to let go of Mr. #1 and you became Mr. #2 not too much longer afterwards.

I always liked your kisses, they weren't slobbery, or sticky, and you weren't miserly with them but happy to give me as many as I wanted and take as many in return. When you used to send me goodnight texts with lots of xs on I'd joke that I actually wanted that many when I saw you again-and you always obliged. We were sickeningly sweet behind closed doors, although I doubt many of our friends would have guessed because we were never really affectionate in public-something which I didn't actually mind too much at all.
I can still remember our last kiss-I remember the ending as clearly as the beginning actually. It was a day full of emotions and tears and heartbreak on both sides. At the end you left and I remained collapsed on the bed, utterly broken. I heard your footsteps over my head as you walked out of my house and then I ran after you, wanting to kiss you goodbye just one more time. It was a fleeting kiss, as you stood on my doorstep for the last time, and it tasted of tears but I'm glad we had it because it was the final full stop on the final page of our book, and I really needed that.
Heartbroken, I may have been, but I'm thankful that we ended things properly. Even though that wasn't the last time I ever saw you, in my head it was the ending of everything I knew at the time so I'm grateful to have a good memory to look back on, really. I can forget everything after that, because you’d already moved on anyway, but that kiss was the last moment you were ever mine.

To Mr. Next, Whoever You May Be;

I've imagined how our first kiss will go a hundred times (although you don’t actually have a face in my mind yet) but I know it won’t turn out like that, really. I'm going to be so nervous and feel incredibly sick and it’s going to be awful.  It will be my first ‘first kiss’ for at least 4 years so I'm not really going to know what to do with myself. I'll be horrendously under confident and shy and basically wishing you would do all the work so I don't have to. I apologise in advance if I bash my teeth into yours or turn my head the wrong way or can't actually look at you at all because our faces are so close and I want to kiss you but just can't. I’ll be nervous and jittery and undoubtedly a bit crap-it's been a while, I've sort of forgotten what I'm supposed to do and how it all works. I'm hoping it will all come back to me after that first time, but you might need to remind me a little. I just hope you’re understanding, and kind, and laugh with me when things go a bit wrong rather than letting it make things even more awkward. I'm looking forward to it (and am terrified about it) already. Now come and find me already, I'm getting impatient!

-Jenni-

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-