Kiss Of Death

I have an old friend, we've known each other for...17 years. Really, 17 years? Wow. I am officially OLD.

We aren't particularly close, but we've remained in contact and I had a chance to catch up with him the other day and it reminded me of a particularly embarrassing event. Old friends are good for things like that.

We met through a mutual friend and shortly after he expressed interest in me. I wasn't feeling the vibe so I categorically put him in the friend zone. We ran in the same circles, hung out at the same places and we saw each other quite a bit. Then one day I was driving down the road, listening to the radio and a song came on that reminded me of my ex boyfriend and what a bad relationship it had been. And it hit me.  This guy likes me. This guy is a good guy. This guy would treat me right.

So I called him, I think I asked him out on a date...not sure, but he wasn't into me. I think he had met someone, or was trying to meet someone. And life continued.  And I'm not sure how much time passed when the subject of us dating came up again - this time his request. But by then, I wasn't into him anymore. And the cycle continued. One of us would be interested and the other wouldn't be. The timing was just never, ever right. And it's funny because it wasn't like we ever got offended or upset - we remained friends that entire time. You would have never even known we discussed dating. Except for this one time...

Which is the embarrassing part.

We frequented a lot of the same places so it wasn't uncommon to randomly see him out on the weekend. On this fateful Saturday night,  I was with a girlfriend encouraging her obsession with the singer of a local band. While she was busy stalking, I went to get a drink and I ran into my friend. We visited, I went to say hello to the rest of his group and all was well. Until about 3 hours and a few drinks later.

I'm not really sure about the events leading up to this. Not from the drinks but because I've packed quite a few things into my life during the years since. All I know is that for some reason, in that instant, I decided that he should like me. And I couldn't, for the life of me, understand how he couldn't. In fact, at that moment I couldn't understand how he could ever possibly resist me.

The cloudy  memory of that night was not due to drinking but the bravery of that night can 100% be attributed to alcohol.

So I kissed him. Walked right up to him out of nowhere and kissed him. Like a real, full-out, give-it-everything-I've-got kiss.  He didn't push me away. But I didn't rock his world either.  I don't know what exactly I was expecting but I know I thought he should have found that experience spectacular.

And when he didn't? Well, I got mad. Really mad. Never mind that the kiss came out of nowhere and caught him off guard, never mind that there was another girl there that he was interested in.  Nope, none of that seemed to even resonate with me. See, I had the misfortune of too much alcohol and not enough good judgement. Which is a very dangerous, and sometime hilarius, combination. It was just enough for me to decide to confront him.

I'm not sure what all I yelled but I remember something to the effect of "You know that was an awesome kiss!" or something equally humiliating. 

Yes. I was that girl.  Lord, forgive me because in that instant, that night - I was totally her.

So I will always maintain this friendship, however casual, just to keep this embarrassing story buried deep, deep in history. Where it belongs.