<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d7917459\x26blogName\x3dfirstkissproject\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://firstkissproject.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://firstkissproject.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d4021338945997668753', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

« Home | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next »

Emily C., from Ovilla, TX

I liked you from the moment I met you, which was quite some time ago, when we were full of imagination and childishness. I knew it when I played Legos with you instead of playing Pretty Pretty Princess with the other first grade girls. Then you left.

You resurfaced again in fourth grade at my sister’s funeral. I never did thank you for coming. Thank you.

I had little contact with you until my sophomore year of high school. I asked you to the choir banquet, as a favor. You said, "Yes, of course." We talked some and laughed some and ate some, and then you took me home. I kissed your cheek. I'm not sure if you noticed.

I invited you to my eighteenth birthday party. You came, and flirted with my friends. I wish you had flirted with me. I did not speak to you afterwards for over a year.

I saw you last Christmas at church. We talked for a while, and then you left. I had thought that was the end of it. Then you called to hang out. You remembered what kind of music I liked and had it playing in the car. We talked for six hours.

We went back to our respective schools. You called every week. It made me happy to talk with you for hours.

You comforted me during spring break. We watched a movie late into the night. You leapt on to the couch; our faces grew closer and closer. Then I did what I had wanted to do since the first grade. I kissed you. You were wearing your cowboy hat and my head bumped the brim, almost knocking it off your head. You kissed me back.

It wasn't my first kiss, but you were the first person I wanted to kiss. I want you to be my last kiss. I don't want to kiss anyone else. Just you, forever.

Please keep entries to 500 words or fewer when possible. Your email address, and any other identifying information you choose, will be kept private. By submitting your story, you grant the First Kiss Project copyright and publicity rights. If you do not wish to grant the First Kiss Project these rights, it is suggested that you do not submit to this website. The First Kiss Project is all about sharing, but please don't steal these stories or use them as your own. Thanks.