That Faith Hill Song

The last time you kissed me – the last time I’ve ever been kissed – was January 6, 2012. I was sixteen years old.

You picked me up from school. It was the first day you could legally drive a non-family member in your car. We picked up Domino’s Pizza. I had never had Domino’s Pizza before and I have never had it since.

We were watching Ghost Hunters while we were making out. I was holding your neck with both of my hands, like I needed to hold you together because you were going to burst.

One time, as we were kissing in the back of your car in a church parking lot, you stopped me and had me lean my ear against your chest.

Listen to my heart go. You’re making it go crazy.

I don’t remember when we stopped or how, but I remember that there was an EVP of a ghost saying, “I killed six kids.” I can still hear that. But I can’t feel your lips.

When you dropped me off at home, you wouldn’t lean over to kiss me. So the last time must have been on your couch at some point.

Later, you would tell me you were getting tested for an STD even though I was very much a virgin. You asked if I wanted to come over and make out. I almost did. But it turns out, you said, your lips were too chapped. Maybe another time.

–––

The first time you kissed me – the first time I have ever been kissed – was November 14, 2010. I was fifteen years old.

You had been planning it for a while and I knew it was coming and I was petrified.

We were watching Pirates of the Caribbean in your basement when you leaned over and got it over with. I said thanks.

I often made you stop the car and get out whenever it was raining. Kissing was so much better in the rain. You always laughed and said it was magical.

One of my friends to whom you later lost your virginity told me that you told her all about my lackluster kissing skills. And how I was always so sweaty and the salt hurt your chapped lips. (Don’t boys use chapstick?) I didn’t think it was so bad. I can’t really remember it now.

Until I had to kiss the next guy. The last guy. Had to. It was for a play, you see. And he convinced me that, after breaking up with you, no one but him would ever kiss me again. He was right.

–––

I could have kissed you at junior prom. I invited you, and told you that you could dance with whomever you wanted the whole time as long as I got the slow dances.

You did dance with my other friend’s date a lot.

But other times we sat at our table and held hands. Or we leaned our foreheads together during the slow dances and our lips were so close that I could taste your breath.

I was going to go to your prom, to senior prom. You later claimed you thought I didn’t want to go.

But it’s all for the best. Turns out you had the hots for your best friend’s girlfriend. My best friend. And then you called her a cunt. I haven’t spoken to you on purpose since. But I can still taste your breath.

–––

I could have kissed you outside of the house I was watching while my mentor was on vacation. You were going to stop by before you headed to your last year of university, and I was going to pin you up against the wall and show you what I thought of you.

But you slept in.

You briefly dated one of my friends at your university. You then threatened to hurt me when she wouldn’t text you back. I still try to be your friend to this day, because I know it wasn’t your fault.

I still feel the empty weight of you on my chest and wonder, even though I’ve written stories about you and you’ll definitely sue me one day even though I made you promise that you wouldn’t.

–––

I could have kissed you that night you slept over in my dorm. When our pinkies were touching as we were watching Black Mirror, I could have just leaned over.

And if it didn’t work out, I could have shrugged, said sorry. Just figured, we’ll give it a whirl.

My roommate had offered to sleep somewhere else that night. She knew that I was in love with you, that I have always been in love with you and only you, and that you were single for the first time in four years.

I told her to stay.

I had you sleep on my bed while I slept on the floor. What a gentleman I was.  

My love guru – my brother-in-law – said that I should have just slipped into bed with you. But it was just a twin XL and you have sleep apnea.

And you’re living with the girlfriend you started dating soon after. And you’re still possibly my best friend.

––

I had an erotic dream the other night. We were holding hands, but we were doing it so that no one could see. It was all very secretive and sexy.

Even in my dreams, I can’t kiss anymore.

Because of you.