General

Ever had a kiss that drove you crazy

NB:Quite a large story.

She was great, the most beautiful woman I've ever known. I have vague memories of the days before we were together; going to sleep as early as possible so I could be with her in my dreams all night and see her again the next day. But my clearest memory of us is the day our relationship officially began; so vivid are the images, the sounds, the range of emotion we explored together that day.

It started as just another day in the life of me. I woke up alone, my first thought being of how nice it would be to awake with her in my arms, to feel her soft skin, to look into her eyes, caught in her hypnotic gaze for a second that felt like an hour before kissing her softly on her lips made just for mine. But today, I'd take a step toward bringing that fantasy into reality. Being the social outcast I've always been, I absolutely could not bring myself to confess any of my thoughts or feelings to her in person, so I opted to send her a text message that read:

'We've been friends for quite awhile and I have to admit that I've always liked you as more than that. I woke up today thinking of you like I always do and I've decided that I can't keep up this friend persona without it driving me crazy. We need to talk.'

With sweaty palms and shaky hands, I sent the message, then sat there mentally kicking myself for possibly ruining my closest friendship and any chance I may have had with her. Exactly seven minutes went by, and she replied:

'I've been thinking the same thing for awhile but I wasn't sure if you felt the same way so I didn't want to make things awkward'

My heart skipped a beat, adrenaline rushing through my veins like an IV of hope, courage, and anxiety. I caught my breath, and with my hands shaking enough to make me drop my phone twice, I sent her another text:

'Can we meet up later? We could go to the park and watch people like we always do and maybe talk about this a little more.'

'Sure. I'm working today tho so it will have to be after 7.'

'Ok just give me a call when you get off and I'll head to the park.'

But instead of waiting for her call, I went and sat in the park all day, working myself up for what was to come. I sat there watching people come and go; couples, singles, whole families. In my blissfully distraught mental state, I couldn't help but think of what it'd be like to be with her long enough to start a family and a life together. It was foolish, yes. But the thoughts of having her as mine forever along with our beautiful children brought a smile to my face that no amount of negativity could break. As time passed and the sun began to set, I watched a ragged old man leave the park. His hair was a gray, matted mess of unkempt dreadlocks and inevitable lice, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him. He had an aura of desperation and depression; I could almost feel exactly how I imagined he felt, because it was a feeling I believed to have had myself in the past. He was failure incarnate, everything I never wanted to be. I sat on the bench on the edge of the park until 7:13pm, when she called.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hey, I just got off work and I'm on my way to the park now, where do you want to meet? Same spot as always?" she replied.

"Sure, I'm on my way now, see you in a bit" I said, feeling slightly bad about lying to her right before I was about to confess my love for her.

I walked across the field part of the park, and started down the walking trail. About a quarter of a mile down the trail there was an enormous fallen tree next to a wooden picnic table, it was "our spot"; we'd go out there with friends to get drunk and stoned when it was dark enough to do so without getting caught. I sat on the tree and waited about twenty minutes until she got there. It was awkward at first, part of me felt like I was meeting her for the first time even though I'd known her since middle school.

"Hi," I said, my mind racing with thoughts and emotions I wouldn't have imagined a few days before "how was work?"

"It was ok I guess, same b*tchy boss and lame-brained customers as always" she replied with a smirk as she sat down on the table in front of me.

"Well I'm about to make your night either really good or really bad depending on how much you actually mean what you said when we were texting earlier"

"I meant what I said, honestly. I've known you for years and you've never let me down, never hurt me, and you've been there for me through some really tough times. You know I'm picky about who I go out with, but I think if anyone deserves a chance, it's you" she said, smiling nervously as our eyes met and quickly darted away. "I just never said anything about it because I didn't want to make things awkward if you didn't feel the same way."

"I always have, pretty much since day one if we're being honest here. I just made it a point not to let you know because I wanted to know for sure that you were worth loving, and now that I've known you as well as I do for as long as I have, I feel stupid for waiting."

"Love, huh? You really think that's what this is?" she asked me as we locked eyes.

"If it's not, then it's something really close and I want to turn it into the most amazing love you'll ever know. If you think I'm so great before you tell me it's ok to love you, wait til you see what happens after you do."

"It's ok" she said, standing up and wrapping her arms around me, her nose almost touching mine "I love you too."

Then we kissed, and oh what a kiss it was. Goosebumps, chills, weak knees, more of that electric adrenaline pumping through my pounding heart. It lasted almost twenty seconds, then she pulled away only for us to look into each other's eyes for a split second before I pulled her in for another kiss. As passion overtook us and our kiss became a heavy make-out session, my hands gently holding her neck and her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, my mind began to wander.

I remembered the years of waiting for that moment, watching her relationships fail one after another while I did nothing to let her know how I felt. I remember the one real argument we ever had, it was the night she asked me what I thought of her boyfriend at the time; I told her I thought he was phony and kept her in the dark about who he really was, she told me I was being too judgmental and not giving him enough of a chance. And when he cheated on her, who was it that she called and cried to on the phone all night? Me. After him she moved on to some d*uchebag who manipulated her with his almost constant whining about who she talked to and where she went, and still I said nothing. No, I just waited until the time was right, and now she was mine. Mine, and nobody could take her from me. But then I thought: what if her relationships failed because of things she did? I mean, she talked to me about her boyfriends and I hung out with them once in awhile, but that was only one side of the story. I had never even come close to being with her before, so I really had no idea what being in a relationship with her would be like, outside of what my mind had built it up to be. Suddenly I wasn't so sure I loved her, maybe I was just obsessing over something I thought I couldn't have. For all I know, she could have cheated on every one of them and cried out of guilt instead of sadness over her relationship ending. I could have been helping make her think that sort of thing was ok, and now I was next in line. Then I remembered the ragged old man I had seen earlier that day, with his depressive aura and repulsive demeanor that not even a dog could love. If I forced myself to "love" her, had kids and dedicated my life to her in order to prove it, I would have ended up just like him. Except instead of looking like I had barely survived a hurricane while I wandered around the park all day, my mind would have been worn down to that level, and if I still had a heart it would be good for nothing but keeping me alive and suffering. But did I hate her? No, of course not; I wanted the best possible life for her, one where she never had to worry about anything but bettering herself. I knew what I had to do, even if I didn't fully want to do it.

It was the most impulsive thing I've done in my life. I wrapped my left arm around her waist as my right hand moved slowly across her neck, gripping her throat as hard as I could and shoving her onto the picnic table behind her. I closed my eyes and squeezed her neck as hard as I could, slamming her head on the table as her gasps for breath came out in wheezes. I said "I'm sorry" and kept bouncing her head off the table until I felt her punch me in my left kidney, which sent a sharp pain up my side and made me lose my grip on her throat. She took in one deep breath before I clamped down again, her face turning red then purple as she drooled down her cheek and onto my hand. Another minute went by and she began to twitch and pound her fists on my back; I leaned down and kissed her soft, supple lips one last time before I bashed her head on the corner of the picnic table, cracking it open as she began to bleed into a puddle on the ground, each drop louder and wetter than the one before. I looked into her entrancing eyes just in time to see them roll back in her head. I let go of her neck and she began to gasp for air again, so I lifted her head up as much as I could, and slammed it on the corner of the table. She went limp and her arms fell outward in a "hug me" pose, her head hanging over the edge of the table and almost pouring blood.

I still remember everything about her like it was yesterday, but I don't regret what I did. It hurt me to do it, and it hurt her to go through it, but in the long run I think I spared us more pain than we could have ever conceived.