September 3rd, 2013

Someone asked me to about my first kiss today.
And in the blink of an eye I am transported to your bed. I remember being physically tired and emotionally excited and every other emotion on the spectrum all at the same time, which for me, results in being a very overwhelmed but happy human venturing into a foreign land. I stared at you and it’s in that moment, you know.. where all the universe aligns completely with your heart’s wants and desires, and briefly but infinitely, the belief in a God exists because you can’t understand how else someone so perfect even exists. Then you opened your mouth and words came out, and I found myself wondering if maybe one day all those things you say would turn into the combination of, “I love you.”

Effortlessly, you surprised me. You did the one thing I hated the most.. all over my being to the very core of my bones I felt your spider-y fingers everywhere, shutting down my body in panic. God, I hate being tickled. I struggled, very hard to make you stop torturing me. For me, it was fight or flight. And for you, you called it reading.. said you were tracing and memorizing the lines and bumps of my body like Braille. And I remember wondering in struggling silence if body language was universal, because the poetry of your Greek hands read like prose to my American heart.. and for the first time in my life, I couldn’t sarcastically come up with a metaphor to describe my state of being.

But God, I hate being tickled.

And then you did the thing that I love the most.. and again you caught me off guard. I had always imagined that I’d be the one to make the first move; I always imagined that I would be the courageous one, the hero of this story. But since then I have learned that Pride is a Greek’s greatest strength.. and I understand your country is going through an economic crisis, but can you even fathom the life crisis you put me through?

I remember you telling me many stories of how the socioeconomic downfall of your beautiful country had increased the crime rate, and stealing had become a very prominent atrocity among immigrants.. and in the moment you kissed me, do you realize how much of a hypocrite you became? You stole my doubt, my breath, my heart.. and left me wanting more, of you, of us, of this.

The funny thing is, you weren’t really my first kiss… but I hope you’ll be my last. 


Parthenon, Athens, Greece


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