New Year’s Eve

 I could probably write a whole novel about short lived interactions I’ve had with people. Small moments that come and go are somehow the most memorable. Yet they are the ones that often times get distorted overtime. Two people who share the same interactions can remember them completely different, neither one wrong just simply different from one another. Here’s my recollection of that night…

It was New Year’s Eve. I wore my plunging V neck dress. You had on a black leather jacket, not the ones that most people my age wear to be cool but the ones that people in their late twenties wear because its practical evening wear and doesn’t call too much attention to itself. I kept smiling because I was nervous and knew that after four dates and with it being New Year’s Eve, we would finally share our first kiss that night. 

I felt your gaze more than ever. I just kept on nervously smiling and looking away. It wasn’t until you told me that you wanted to kiss me that I pulled myself together with fake confidence and said “fine”. I had planned to be romantic and hold off on kissing you until midnight but you couldn’t wait and I was too nervous to let that weigh on me the rest of the night. I took charge, as I often do when I have no clue what I am doing. We found ourselves on the staircase. The only private place two eager young adults could find in a loud, crowded Latin club. I took your Stella and placed it on the floor next to my Tokyo tea. I wanted our hands free of distractions. This was my attempt at trying to be as romantic as one can be at a club on New Year’s Eve. It was there, at the top of a dark staircase that we shared our first kiss. Me holding onto your face,while you held me by the waist. It started off like any normal, make out session but by the end I found myself laughing because it didn’t seem to be coming to an end  and you just kept going. Eventually I pushed away to catch my breath, smiled at you and handed you your drink. For the rest of the night we kissed several more times than I can remember and you danced for the first time ever to Latin music. 

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Sunday night // 9:30pm 

I want to rip you to shreds with my words. I want to not have to be nice, to not have to think the consequences through. I want to pick at your insecurities, poke them until the pressure builds. I want to be cruel, for fucks sake let me be cruel. I’m so sick and tired of always being the only one hurt.