I've been telling myself for weeks now that I let you kiss me because I was drunk but I've finally accepted the fact that I've been using it as an excuse because I'm scared of the fact that out of everyone I've been with, you were the first person I let my guard down around.

You were the first person who held me like I mattered. It has been weeks since that night, but I still dream about the way you murmured sweet nothings in my ear. Sometimes it would seem so real, I could almost feel your breath against my neck, but then I'd open my eyes and realize that I'm alone and you're not anywhere near me.

Sometimes I'd get a whiff of your perfume in a crowded place and I could almost feel myself sitting down on that concrete block with your warmth blocking the cold February breeze. For a second, I could feel my head leaning on your shoulder, but a second passes and you disappear, leaving me all alone in a place full of people and a gust of wind that was almost you.

When I finally let you kiss me in that dark, narrow stairwell, I was too busy trying to feel every movement you made, trying to remember every second of your lips on mine to kiss back. Now that I think about it, if I had mindlessly kissed you back that night, will I not fantasize about your lips every time I close my eyes? Will I not think of you every time a kissing scene in a movie comes on? Will I not compare every kiss from every guy that comes after you?