I didn’t really like you,
And I refused to give you my phone number,
But that day and time,
I needed to kiss somebody.
It was against a wall,
And your eyes were as glazed as mine,
You found me fascinating.
And when I hugged you goodbye,
In my house with our mutual best friend a month later,
I swore I heard a sigh.
So about that table-breaking thing:
I don’t know if we actually kissed,
But I was told that we did.
You’re quite good looking,
And apparently quite kind,
And I think we should be friends.
You were the first person I kissed in college,
And it was weird,
Because we were sober,
And I was convinced that all hookups here would be.
I was wrong.
I wish you were the first person I kissed,
And I kissed you more times than I can count,
I don’t even think you were a good kisser,
But we loved each other so it didn’t matter.
I kissed you to prove I didn’t kiss like a guy,
(And I think I actually do.)
Perhaps we could have dated,
If I liked you when I wasn’t drunk,
And you didn’t think I was nuts.
You saved my life, and I saved yours,
So we kissed a lot.
You hated my lovers, and I disregarded yours,
And so we kissed.
You loved me before and after I became who I’m going to be,
I don’t think we kiss as much as we should,
And you’re the only person I will right now,
Because I’m a little in love with you,
And it’s terrifying.
There are approximately 50 million obstacles to us,
But I have the energy to break them all down,
and not the bravery to tell you that.