The End Of You And Me | BOOK 1 (Completed) & 2 (Currently Writing)

TEOYAM | 09. Clouded Mind, Heavy Heart

People always say that you never ever forget your first kiss. Everyone remembers the very first time their lips collided with someone else's. People remember the smallest of details-- what song was playing in the background, how soft the other person's lips felt, the intensity of the kiss. People remember the ambiance, the clothes they were wearing, how awkward they were the second their lips were pressed against that person with whom they shared that special unforgettable first with, what led to that moment, what happened afterwards-- people remember all of it.

I didn't.

As I've already established with you, I'm not like everyone else. It's not that I planned on being this different from everyone (though I most definitely do not mind being distinctive in any way), it just happened.

I can't remember the first time I was ever kissed by a boy. I mean, I remember who the guy was but I don't remember all the details. I don't remember why I was even kissed or if I was the one who kissed the guy. All I know was that my first kiss was with Andrew Vanderbilt. Yes, the same guy I lost my virginity to.

I knew perfectly well why I didn't remember all the details.

It's because it wasn't that important to me.

There weren't any sparks or any of that fancy stuff people describe in books whenever people kiss. I didn't hear wedding bells or fireworks. I didn't feel electricity. I didn't feel anything. I enjoyed being kissed because just like every person with raging hormones, you get turned on when you kiss someone. That was that. I never really saw those things as special or something that I have to cherish because I didn't exactly have people to look up to or relationships I admired. I viewed relationships as something people got themselves into because they can't handle themselves and they have to have other people look after them.

Getting into a relationship was something I viewed before as a sign of weakness. I was anything but weak. I never understood the idea of saving yourself for that person you want to spend your whole life with. Hell, I don't get why anyone in their proper mind would want to be tied down to one person for the rest of their lives. I'm fully aware that I sound like a completely horrible person when I say that kissing and all that stuff people deem special is nothing but a physical act to me, just like exercising. That was just how I saw things.

Well, up until Harry kissed me.

That New Year's kiss with Harry was the complete opposite of my actual first kiss with Andrew or with the hundreds of people I've kissed ever. It wasn't passionate or sensual. There was no groping or sloppy tongue action. It was just a simple kiss that was filled with so much emotion where our lips were carefully pressed together. His hands were carefully placed on my waist while my hands were resting on his chest. From a stranger's point of view, the kiss seemed nothing out of the ordinary, especially when it happened in the midst of a sea of other people kissing.

From my point of view, however, it was anything but ordinary.

I thought I was going to explode. I could feel electricity flowing through my veins. I couldn't move. It was as if my feet were cemented in the middle of Time's Square and I was too distracted to even notice how and when it happened. The reality that Harry was kissing me hasn't really sunk in yet. Butterflies fluttering inside the stomach was a complete understatement for what I felt inside. The closest analogy I could make is it was as if piranhas were nibbling on my insides-- make that thousands of piranhas nibbling on my insides-- but in a good way.

I know, I know. That description was very unromantic. If anything, it sounded horrific, but it wasn't horrific. It was how I felt. It was like the second he kissed me, all the ideals I had in the past, all the things I thought were true and right were suddenly wrong, all the beliefs I had that I stubbornly stood up for when it came to relationships and feelings were proven wrong.