First kiss.

I kissed my first boy when I was 13.

A little late, yes, but I just did'nt have the time until then.

I was very much in love with him.

He listened to sad music, sat on the roof of his house and wrote poems about war.

One time he broke a mirror with purpose.

His dad was very upset but he just told him it was art.

He had a cold when we kissed.

Maby that was the main reason why I really did'nt like it?
The kiss was very gentle, but weird and slimy.
I guess you have alot of mucus in your mouth when your sick.

Anyway.
I thought: Is this it? Is this what everybody talks about? Uuuueeek!
I never wanted to do it again.
I just wanted to hold his hand, talk to him on the phone, and write him letters to him even if he sat just next to me.
He wanted to kiss me, and I told him no.
Obviously there was something wrong with me, so he had to break up.
A shame really, but he wrote a beautiful poem about it.
And we were close friends long after that.