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Guys need first kisses, too

July 22, 2011

About a week and a half ago, I mentioned Kiss Chronicles to a guy I know and gave him the link. He took a look at the blog. He told me he didn’t want to offend me, and that he could read it just fine and all, but after reading he had to check inside his pants to make sure he was still a guy. Apparently he felt a bit emasculated by reading this blog. The good news for him is that all his parts were still in place.

I had a good chuckle over the way he said that to me. But I do realize this is a girly blog and project. It doesn’t have to be totally girly, though. I just need to find some ways to add a male perspective. So, right, posting guyish perspective stuff…

Umm. Err.

Let me get back to you on that. The best I can do for now is give you a guy’s first kiss story (so far, the only one I’ve received):

Ever since I was two, I’d been friends with Sausha. Our mothers used to work at the same company, and our playdates started from there. We grew up the closest of friends, completely inseparable. Time went on, we grew up, added friends to our fun little group. By the time 3rd grade was over, the seven of us were the terrors of our town! Always together and always up to something.

At the end of 5th grade, three of us were moving; Saushy to Oregon, me to across the state, and our friend Andrew to England. It was a very sad going away party. However, we all promised to keep in touch. Again, time passed, we got older, and the years went by. Saush and I eventually were able to finagle a way for her to come visit me in Connecticut. It was awesome. We hadn’t hung out in a very long time (the last time being three years prior when she flew out to Cape Cod for a few weeks with her family and spent some time with all of us left in Connecticut), and we took a long walk through the woods behind my house, talking about old times and how we’d grown and where we were in our lives.

At age 16, we were both surprised with each other for not having had our respective first kisses. At this point, we were both sitting on a rock next to each other, facing ahead. I looked toward her to say something to fill the awkward silence and found her eyes just inches from mine. The kiss didn’t last long, but I know I’ll never forget it. After we parted (and a few awkward seconds of surprise on both sides), everything was completely normal again. We walked and talked all the way back to my house, where she was picked up by her mother shortly after. We’ve only talked about it once since then. I will always consider her to be my closest friend, no matter the relationships we come to be a part of or the distance between us.


Hmm, I’m not entirely sure, but from the way you describe it, Eric, I think Sausha gets credit for making the move. Sounds like she inched in when you weren’t looking. However, you get massive credit for both being the first guy to submit a first kiss story. If I’m lucky, others will follow your example.

Ladies and gents, send me first kiss stories! Actually, just send me any kiss stories. I’ll take ’em. C’mon, kiss and tell! kisschronicles at

2 Comments leave one →
  1. July 25, 2011 2:21 am

    The italics used in the blockquote are a little hard to read. You might try dropping the italics, maybe add a background color instead to make it stand out? (I, uh, know a guy who might be able to help you out there.)

    As far as guys’ first-kiss stories, I wish my first kiss was less mundane and more story-worthy.

    As for the link between alcohol and kissing, I hope you don’t regret that you never got drunk and kissed a guy in college. First-kiss stories that start with getting drunk are just sad.

    • July 27, 2011 12:31 pm

      Re: Italics; I was assured that they look find, but I’ll try a couple different styles and see whether I can find something I like.

      And about the alcohol, no, that’s not it exactly. I don’t regret that I don’t like to drink — that’s just a part of me. I just can look back and see missed opportunities to socialize. This isn’t regret; it’s more along the lines of an epiphany about how the past relates to the present.

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