I met him on New Year’s Eve 2012. I was 21 and he was 18. As I saw him arrive at the party I could not take my eyes off of him. He was tall and handsome. He looked like he would be able to pick me up and swipe me off of my feet. I strategically kept getting close to him, trying to start up a conversation with him. I felt like he too found me attractive. I asked him, how old are you? I was hoping he’d say 21 but as he responded to me he said 19. Hmm.. 19? Ok, I told myself that’s not too bad. He’s only a couple of years younger than me. I continued to have small talk with him and flirted. I didn’t want the night to end. Something within me wanted to follow him into the restroom and push him against the wall and kiss him. I wanted to put my tongue inside his mouth and kiss him so passionately that he’d have no choice but to fall for me. Fortunately, I was able to compose myself and decided not to go that route. Towards the end of the party we danced like there was no one around us. I wanted to see him again, and I did.
Last updated June 28, 2020