First Kiss, Last Love

This is day 3 of the #30daywritingchallenge. The topic is actually “Discuss your first love or your first kiss. If separate, both”. I don’t know why I used the quotes there, that definitely wasn’t exact. I’m too lazy to go look at the photo on my FaceBook at the moment.

And now you know how I’m doing on a Thursday. Ha!

So, once again I’m flexing the boundaries of the topic. Why not? I’m the one that suggested this exercise. Normally I’d say that means I’m the one that most closely has to follow the rules, but I’m contrary like that.

Like many women of this generation, I’ve had several long term relationships. They were all special in their own way. I waited to get married until I was in my late 20’s, figuring that would help me beat the odds on the whole divorce thing.

I was wrong.

I took a while off of dating after that. About a decade’s worth, to be honest. I got to know myself in a way that would have made me uncomfortable many years ago. Now I adore the person that I am. I have my faults, but I embrace those too.

I’m fortunate that I met someone who’s faults are similar to my own. Or, if not similar, at least complimentary. When I’m feeling the slack, he picks up the mood, and vice versa. We often say that we wish we had met a decade ago. Perhaps longer. From what I can gather, the people that we each were back then would not have particularly liked each other.

But we met at a time in our lives when maturity actually wins the day.

We met at a bar. Of course we did. It was springtime. I had finished up a long, hot night at work. I was working as a hostess/floor manager at a seafood place. My friends wanted a drink. I agreed on the condition that when we went to this bar they warned me about, they wouldn’t throw me out as bait to the rednecks to get free drinks.

They had me scared to death of this bar. “They’ll eat you for dinner, A.K.”. Yeah, right.

There was a gentleman at the other end of the bar, seated with a laptop. Yes, a laptop in a dive bar. My friend asked what he was doing. She purposely misheard him in order to continue the conversation.

And yes, I was thrown out as bait for drinks.

I didn’t handle it well, at first. After a “reset” we started chatting.

Politics, religion, books, other things I tell people to never ever talk about in bars or on FaceBook, but whatever. The guy talked his way in.

Ultimately, he asked me on a date. Who does that? I’m Gen X. My entire life has been spent “hanging out” either in a group or exclusively. He’s Gen X, too. Somehow it felt right.

We’d discussed steaks. Filet mignon specifically. And we talked about jam bands, and live bands and how cool the local scene should be since this is Tampa.

He got my phone number and before the night was done, he kissed my cheek. Ugh, so cheesy, but he knew Gone With the Wind so I let it slide.

We went out that Friday night when I finished my shift. He hired a car. That car took us to Tampa. Now, if you know me, you know I can talk about some crazy things. The night before, I had tried an Ambien to help me sleep. I had theĀ craziest dreams. I titled them my Natural Born Killer (NBK) dreams, after the Woody Harrelson movie. I’m shivering over here.

We were discussing the dream. Because we had been texting about it and it was a continuation of the subject. The driver was scared! He thought I was some crazy lady. By the end of the night, he understood us both a lot better.

Side note, I’ve recently discovered this driver passed away unexpectedly. He was a young guy with a great name. He’ll be missed. RIP.

My now Companion took me to a five star steak restaurant. They had filets that could be cut with a fork. I know this, because I actually did that. And the cheesecake! I still dream about the cheesecake.

We split a bottle of wine, had coffee, and chatted until the place closed down. Pretty awesome, right? The night was not complete.

We went to this part of Tampa called Ybor City and checked out an outside dive bar with live band action going on. It was awesome!

We ended up hanging out with the band and some of their groupies (because I collect people that way) until after 3 am. It was a magical night.

During the third song – or round abouts of there – my now Companion leaned in and kissed me. And it was perfect. And I knew then he was likely to be the last guy I ever kissed.

Now that I’m nearly 40, I appreciate all the experience I had, but I appreciate what I have all the more.

This has been day 3 of the #30daywritingchallenge

3 thoughts on “First Kiss, Last Love

  1. Pingback: No BFF, No Problem

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