My First Time -- Part One

Usually, click-bait titles bother me but when it's for my own personal gain I've decided I don't mind it. Looking at the title of this post you probably think I am going to tell you about losing my virginity. But that’s just the tip (pun intended) of what I’m going to talk about. What I am going to talk about in this post is my first kiss, first relationship, the first time I truly committed to something and I guess my first time. But let’s start with my first kiss. 

As I’ve said before I was a bit of a late bloomer. After growing up in a strictly religious family I found myself at the age of 21 having never kissed a guy and in the middle of a bit of a quarter-life crisis. I didn’t know who I was, or who I wanted to be and after 3 years living away from my parents, I had moved back home to finish university. This was frustrating, to say the least.

So I did the logical thing anyone would do, I lived out my rebellious youth at an older age. A little less rebellious considering I was legal age for just about anything. I had made a new group of friends thanks to a connection from my childhood and through them, I was exploring a whole new side to myself. Although I think most people probably know I’m gay from the moment they meet me, I was in a place of strong self-denial.

As with most great stories mine begins with tragedy. Now it may not seem major to you but for me this incident was monumental. You see the incident that triggered the series of events which led to my first relationship was the death of my dog. 

One night just shy of Thanksgiving my dog began getting sick, after years of working in a Veterinary Hospital I knew what was happening. My dog was dying. This led to me wanting to drown my sorrows in some alcoholic beverages. So I went out with my new found posse. Among this group of people was a girl who may or may not have thought I was going to date her, this could’ve been due to the fact that when I got drunk I would make-out with her. 

So we decided to go to the gay bar in town, this didn’t please me, not because I was denying my sexuality, but simply because I found it to be sort of a skeezy establishment. But as we danced I happened to lock eyes with a classmate from one of my lectures. And when he went upstairs to go to the second bar I got the unquenchable thirst for another drink. After stumbling up the narrow staircase I found myself standing beside him at the bar. The man we would later deem “The Chest”. 

After I ordered my drink I turned to him simply saying “Aren’t you in my History Lecture?”. He turned to me and smiled saying “I thought that was you.” We made some small talk while waiting for our drinks most of which I can’t remember because I found myself transfixed to his lips. Honestly, I don’t remember if he somehow encouraged me, or if I simply made a move I was too drunk to remember, but next thing I knew I had grabbed the back of his neck and began kissing him. 

I was experiencing both the exhilaration of kissing a guy and the fear of someone catching me in the act despite being in a room full of people. After our first little make-out, I pulled myself away from him and apologized turning to leave. With that, I went downstairs and promptly left the bar. My friends followed me asking what had happened but I just said: “I’m ready to go”. The rest of the night I had the biggest smile on my face. 

Now, this kiss led to a few other adventures culminating in those three simple words that hold so much weight ‘I Love You’.