I don't think I've been in love. Ever. Not before, not now, but goddamn am I close. Sebastian has swept me off my feet.
Our date last night was lovely. A game or four of pool, which I all won, and plenty of beers. Talking about this and that, about nothing and everything at a bar and not leaving until mother called me wondering where I was by twenty to midnight on a school's night.
I longed for him to kiss me. When we sat by the table, when we walked to the bus, when we sat by the bus stop; his arm around me. When we sat on the bus. The thoughts went on like a hurricane in my head. Was he being polite? Had he not gotten all of my physical hints throughout the night? Am I the one wanting to move forward to quickly? Not until the bus reached my stop he mumbled something about a kiss and placed his lips on mine. One kiss, two kisses. I remember that I smiled. Another kiss, I tried to tell him between our lips that I needed to get off, his hand on the side of my face gently holding me close. One last kiss.
When I got off the bus I was still smiling. I felt dizzy but I don't think it was because of the beers - suddenly I felt sober feeling the crisp air of the night, his touch still lingering on my lips. I felt happy and an almost electrifying feeling in my stomach. (Is that what other people call butterflies?) Maybe not because the kiss itself was great, but because it was his kiss.
And that feeling hasn't left me yet. Everytime I've thought about our kiss; his hand on my cheek, it's taken a hold of me dragging me down the well of silly rom-com feelings, leaving me with a smile.
Goddamn butterflies. I've never been in love before, so how will I know when I am?
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