♡ the life of a 25 year old hopeless romantic ♡

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"This song is talking to the person you haven't even met yet. Maybe they're rolling around in the hay with someone else, but they're not as good as you're gonna be. You just have to wait your turn. He's out there, she's out there. They're just learning what to contrast you against."






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instinct.}
Sunday, May 22, 2016 | 9:23 PM | 0Comment

Internet.

You know how some things aren't that hard to figure out? You immediately just instinctively know?

 Think about the first time you ever had pizza (or, if you're one of the rare breeds of human out there that hates pizza, substitute this for another food that you could not live without). It was instant, right? Like, "Holy shit. This pizza thing. I love this stuff. I need more of it. I need endless pizza forever."

Or think about the first time you ever saw your favorite movie. The score tattooed itself on your heart the moment you heard it, and your favorite lines imprinted into your brain. The bittersweet moment the end credits started, you were filled with the overwhelming need to watch it again...and again and again and again.

Some things are just undeniable like that. You experience it and, right away, you like it. You know you without a doubt need more of this thing in your life or you will positively explode.

Some people are the same way. The moment I got to really know R*cky B*bby, it was like that. When I met some of my closest friends, it felt that way too.

Enter Jacob*.

Holy shit, Internet. This guy.

I don't have time to go into details and explanations just yet, but here are the need to knows: I had a first date with this guy, Jacob, this morning. After talking to him for a week.

And that feeling I was talking about? Yeah. So overwhelming that I had to write this short entry trying to put what I'm feeling into words and wrap my head around this.

Don't worry, more details are coming soon. But first I need to get some actual sleep, and calm all of these butterflies in my stomach. Hang tight.

xo Hopeless Romantic

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hopeless romantic's first kiss. ever.}
Sunday, May 1, 2016 | 10:56 PM | 0Comment

Internet. What a night last night was.

I don't even know where to start. Not since high school have I had a night this significant.

To be honest...I didn't think I would ever be writing an entry like this. At least not for a good while longer. Receiving my first kiss was of course something I hoped for, but I never even fathomed that it could happen this year, even this week. But it did.

Let me start this crazy story from the beginning.

His name is Luke*.

I swiped right on Luke two weeks ago. We matched immediately.

It happened during a surprising, short lived burst of bravery I had on Tinder where I swiped right 4 TIMES in one session (unprecedented for me) and inexplicably matched with all four of them. Of the four, though, only 2 of them actually messaged me.

One was Luke, and one was a dude I'll call Roy*.

I texted them both at the same time for a day. Luke asked if we could "hang out sometime". I said sure, maybe next weekend (all the while in the back of my mind I was sure that I would bail last minute and say that I was busy).

Then for a few days Luke and I didn't talk, and I talked to Roy a lot more. Me and Roy had a ton of interests in common.

After another day or two, Roy asks me out, too. Like an idiot, I forget that I had already agreed to something with Luke that weekend, and I tell Roy, "Sure, I'll be free this weekend!"

Then...later, I remember. Crap. I double booked. This had never happened to me before. I hadn't ever had 2 people interested in me at the same time.

But, also remembering that Luke hadn't even talked to me in like 3 days, I shrugged it off. Our plans had never been solidified anyway, and he probably decided he didn't want to go out with me after all. Whatever. I was used to that at this point. AhemAMADcough. (Speaking of, guess who finally moved? Saw it on Instagram. Bon voyage, Amad. Have fun in La La Land.)

So, I carried on, fully convinced that that Roy and I would be going on a date.

Well...until Luke texted me on Wednesday.

Luke and I resumed talking, and weirdly, my conversation with Roy got abruptly cut off. I messaged him again to maybe start our talking again, thinking he just forgot to reply, but it was totally radio silence. Zero word from him since then.

So Luke and I text for 2 days straight now, and on Thursday night asks if I'd still like to hang out on Saturday.

Considering Roy presumably has fallen off the face of the planet at this point, and the more I talk to Luke the more I realize that we have more in common than Roy and I had in common, I say yes to Luke instead.

Friday...the panic starts to set in.

As much as Luke liked to call it "hanging out"...I knew it wasn't. I don't get why guys my age hate calling dates what they are, but they are dates, whether they want to call them that or not. This was a date date, and I hadn't been on a date since Brennan. (About a year and a half ago now.)

Crap. I had a date!!!! My knee was still hurting and I was still recovering from my near week-long impromptu sitting stint last week (long story). How was I supposed to go on a date?????

Then even more panic flooded in.

What if it went terribly and my impression of Luke was completely wrong? What if he was rude and narcissistic like Amad? What if he was nothing like his pictures and I was uncomfortable? Then, even worse--what if something was wrong with me?!?! What if he showed up, saw me, then immediately walked back out?



Then, worst of all: What if it went great for once? What would I do then? How would I handle it?

Ready or not, though Saturday finally came. As I always do for dates, I spent hours getting ready. (Spent a record 2 hours on my makeup. It looked great and I mean, for that crazy amount of time, it should have!) I pick out a cute yet casual outfit, complete with flat sneakers to accommodate my still healing knee. I do my hair in a cute yet not-too-fancy hairstyle.

Lo and behold, it was snowing. On the last day of April. I KNOW. The freezing weather made me not want to leave the house at all, as it always does, but in the end, I'm glad I did.

I finish getting ready, and by late afternoon, it's time to meet Luke.

Stepping out of the snowy tundra outside and into the warm coffee shop, I search for him at first. Not an easy task, considering I wasn't wearing my glasses (faux lashes make glasses impossible). Soon, though, I see a guy stand up from one of the tables and slightly wave at me, and I make my way over, my stomach in knots.

He greets me with a hug, and I hug him back. As I pull back, I try to read his face. I can't tell if he looks disappointed, disinterested, nervous, or if that's just his normal resting face.

I say I'm going to get my drink, and he says he'll buy my drink for me and comes with me. A little awkwardly, we walk over there together. He asks what I want, without thinking I blurt out, "Hot chocolate," and even though I love hot chocolate, this place has milk based hot chocolate. Since I'm lactose intolerant, that was maybe not the best choice. Oh well. Too late to take it back.



He kindly pays for both drinks and we sit at the table. I get another good look at him, and I realize his whole face is red. He also avoids prolonged eye contact with me--which is usually just my problem. He seems really nervous, and somehow, it's reassuring. Immediately, I ask him questions about himself, wanting him to feel more at ease.

We talk about his job (paid internship) and his art (he's super SUPER talented at drawing), and soon he loosens up and isn't as red. Finally, I see him smile. He has a great smile. He's one of those people that look completely different when they smile--it changes his whole face.

We talk more and more, animatedly about our shared interests and seriously about each of our passions. We click. We laugh and relate. I tell him I still live at home, and that I don't drive, and he accepts it easily (he still lives with his folks as well). I talk about how much writing means to me, and he listens. Really listens. And after I finish, he says, "That's wonderful."

As soon as he says that, I already know without that choosing to meet Luke in person had been the right decision to make.



Soon, we realize the sun has gone down. 3 hours had passed already.

Luke asks if I'd want to go watch a movie, and with the way that he words it, I realize that he didn't mean the movie theater. But we're having such a nice time that I don't think that I want it to end just yet. And watching a movie sounds nice. So I agree.

He throws his drink away, and then proceeds to pick up all the straw wrapper rippy bits that I'd unknowingly made while I was nervous earlier. I thank him and apologize, laughing because I hadn't even realized I'd done that.

We shoulder on our coats and head outside where the snowstorm has picked up even more, and cottony flakes are lightly falling from the sky.

He opens the doors for me, and I thank him. We get into his (well taken care of and nice) car, and he starts to drive through the snow to his house. On the way we talk about what kinds of music we like, and the kinds of music we grew up listening to.

In about 15 minutes, we're already there. He lives on a quiet suburban street much like mine.

We go into his house, and his dad is in the kitchen. A spike of nervousness hits me again, and when Luke introduces his dad to me, I tell him it's nice to meet him and call him 'sir'. He asks me how I am, I say fine and ask how he his, and he says he's fine. Thankfully after that the introduction is over and I can breathe a little.

We go downstairs where the entertainment center was, and I'm relieved to see it, as I had been worried that 'movie' had been code for something else. He asks what I want to watch, and I look through his movies to decide.

I decide on an alien invasion movie that I had never seen before, and he says it's one of his favorites as he pops it into the movie player.

Feeling a little out of my element, considering I had only just met this guy in person today and I was already at his house, I sit on the love seat by the armrest and try to make myself as small and as unimposing as possible.

He asks if I'm cold and if I want a blanket, and I say sure, since I decided to wear tights and a tennis skirt during a snow storm. He hands the blanket to me and I thank him. The movie begins and then, as I put the blanket over my legs, he turns out the lights. Oh.

Then he sits on the couch, scooches right next to me, and drapes the blanket over his legs too.

Oh.

It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out what might happen, and I try to mental prepare myself. It suddenly occurs to me that I've never watched a movie with a boy at a boy's house, alone, EVER, in my entire life. Why had I immediately assumed that when he asked to watch a movie, that he meant only watch a movie????

I realized that perhaps 'movie' was code for something else after all.

He asks if I need anything, and I say no. The movie starts, and I'm tense, arms folded, face carefully blank, acting like I'm paying close attention to the movie but I'm actually fuh-REAKING OUT.

The nervousness makes my stomach churn, and then I realize that I had never eaten dinner, and it was almost 4 hours past dinner time. The thought makes me even more hungry, and I can't quell the growl my stomach makes. I quietly hope he didn't hear it.

Finally, 15 minutes or so into the movie, I ask if he has any snacks to eat. He says that he's hungry too, and immediately he goes upstairs to the kitchen to find something to eat. I take this time to breathe and calm down so I won't be so tense.

In a minute or so, he comes back, and gives me a list of snacks that they have. Muffins was one of them, and so he leaves again and then comes back with muffins. He sits back down, offers me the plate to catch the crumbs with, then we eat our muffins and continue to watch the movie.

At this point I'm not as nervous, considering I've had something to eat now. So I take forever eating the muffin (because I'm a slow eater) and eventually I finish, and he offers to get the plate out of my way, and I thank him as he does.

We get back to watching the movie. About a few minutes after that, he does...the move.



The arm around the shoulder thing (except without the corny yawn part).

I freeze again. The moment oddly reminds me of the time You-Know-Who did the same thing in junior year, minus the movie watching. I froze up exactly the same way. Only this time, there was no friends near me to seamlessly divert my awkward, frozen reaction to the physical contact. We were alone.

My brain is screaming at me to react in some way, and so what I do is free my hair from under his arm. He laughs nervously and apologizes, and it reminds me yet again that he's just as nervous as I am, and it's again reassuring. I tell him it's okay and laugh too, and I take that moment to rearrange myself so that I'm a little more comfortable.

It helps...a little. Still freaking out. My shoulders, where his arm is across, feel like they're on fire. My leg keeps twitching. It feels like I'm breathing way too loud and swallowing way too much. I know he can hear me swallow, because I can hear him swallowing hard, too. And breathing hard.

There's a palpable tension there in that room between us. And I haven't felt that in God knows HOW long. (6 years, to be exact.)

We sit like that for the rest of the movie, and because I actually got myself to pay attention to the last half hour, I applaud because I loved it. I tell him I loved it, and he says he's glad I enjoyed it. His hand tightens slightly on my shoulder, and I ask if his arm is numb. He says not at all, and that I barely weigh anything. And I told him I was relieved because I was worried about that.

I comment a little more on the movie, and he agrees with me, and I feel the tension even more now. There's a lull, and just before I can start to feel uneasy--it happens.

He reaches across me with his free hand, very gently touches my cheek and turns my face towards his face. He leans in.

Before I can prepare for what I think it might be like, or freak out at all, it's already happening. His lips press against mine. I freeze in shock again.

I begin to register what's happening. His lips are smooth and soft against mine. I thought it would be...wetter. Like maybe too wet? But it was a nice amount of softness. His stubble scrapes my face, but not unpleasantly. His aftershave smells really freakin' good. His nose bumps into my cheek. His thumb strokes my other cheek.

It's completely different from what I've thought it would be like for the past...when did I hit puberty...13 years? It's unfamiliar, and confusing, but not unwelcome.

Finally, I snap out of my stupor, and I start to move my lips, trying to match his movements.



(Okay, sorry. Enough k-drama gifs.)

I had heard that when you get your first kiss, you figure out what to do. I didn't believe that, not for one second. 'But there must be some trick!' I would think after hearing that. 'Some secret that I don't know! What is it!! TELL ME THE KISSING SECRET!'

But, honestly? That advice is so accurate. After knowing I should try to match him, and try not to let our teeth bump (I still did once. Oops.), I was just...doing it. I don't know if I did it well or not, really. But I did it.

Internet. I kissed a boy.



After maybe...I don't know. 30 seconds? A minute? (My mind was somewhere else, I have no clue how long it was!) He pulled away, briefly, then leaned in once more to press his lips to mine again.

He pulls back again, looks down at me, and at this point my brain is totally kaput, and I say, like a total fucking nerd, "Um, thank you."

He chuckles and says, "You're welcome." Then kisses my cheek, and then my temple. And it's so much overwhelming physical contact that I have NEVER HAD BEFORE IN MY LIFE that I just slump down against his shoulder in a giddy daze. He hugs me against him with his arm tighter, and then gently, he takes my hand out of my sleeve and laces his fingers through mine.

My heart is racing, and suddenly I realize how sweaty my hand is, so I apologize for it being sweaty, and he says he didn't even notice.

We sit there like that for a few minutes, in a comfortable silence. I say that I'm sleepy, and he says he could tell. He lets go of my hand, then reaches over and softly strokes my hair and brushes it away from my face. For a good 5 seconds I'm positive that I may just pass out from swooning. (Have I ever mentioned that I love getting my head/face touched? I'm like a freaking cat. My eyes almost rolled back into my head. It took everything me not to actually mewl like a cat.)



I ask what time it is, and he tells me it's about 20 minutes past ten. I can't even remember the last time I was out so late, and I tell him that I should probably get home. He says he figured it would probably be time for me to head home soon, and tells me he'll drive me home.

When I get up from the couch, my knees buckle with weakness, and I glance at him, hoping that he didn't see. If he did, he didn't say anything.

As we open the front door, the snowfall from the past two hours is revealed. Even bigger snowflakes are falling, and it honestly looks magical.



Luke opens the passenger door for me and I settle into the passenger seat. He brushes the snow off the car windows outside. I begin shivering, and at first I think that it's from the cold, but then I realize it's the jitters taking over as I begin to comprehend what had just happened.

I whisper to myself, "Oh my God." Then I whip my phone out to send a quick mass tweet to my friends to tell them the crazy news of my first kiss.

He enters the car, and of course I play it cool again. On the way to my house, we make more small talk in between me giving him directions.

We arrive at my house 15 minutes later, and he gets out to walk me to my front door. He hugs me, and I hug back. I thank him, telling him I had a great night. He says we'll have to do it again, and I agreed. Before we break the hug, he leans down for one more kiss. And I think that if it happens again I'll really lose my cool, so I smile and tell him goodnight and to drive home safely. Then I go inside the house.

My dad greets me when I go in, and unfortunately I don't look in a mirror to see my smudged lipstick until after we're done talking. He almost definitely noticed. Womp womp.

Then I went straight to my room, told all my friends all about it as they freaked out and congratulated me, and then around midnight when I came down from my high, I went into the kitchen to heat up some leftover spaghetti because I was starving.

I didn't think I would EVER sleep, but sometime around 3am I finally passed out.

So....what's next in store for Luke and I?

I don't know what's next. But the fact of the matter is that he is, and always will be, my first kiss ever.

How I managed to have such a lovely, adorable first kiss, I'll never know. The whole thing sort of felt like something from a contemporary YA book or k-drama. I still kind of can't believe it actually happened, and part of me still wonders if I hallucinated the whole thing. I'm still in a daze and it's been a whole day.

But I guess that's one thing that I can stop beating myself up over, Internet. Once upon a time, I'd cry myself to sleep thinking something like this would never happen to me. And now it has.



I'm not going to pile expectations on after this experience, Internet. I'm not going to overthink things.

But maybe...just maybe...it might be okay to like Luke. Maybe just a little bit.

xo Hopeless Romantic

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