A letter from March 6th, 2018

Dear FutureMe, Approximately three years ago and some 27 hours, more or less, you had your first kiss. Age 20. Location: some random club in Porto city. With Jesse. It's crazy to remember how everything turned out. It came out of bloom. Completely unexpected at a point where you thought it would never happen. But it did and you didn't see it coming. It definitely wasn't the perfect kiss, nor the perfect circumstances nor the perfect boy. Yet, it was a good surprise, one you don't regret and it will forever be on your mind. Right now you were overthinking this and trying to understand if something has changed. I don't know the answer, do you? Overthinking does help comprehend how it was a one time thing and that it is completely alright. Crazy again, right? Because you're always the person to hold on to things, dramatize them in your mind and create even bigger expectations. Not this time, though. You were fine with that night shared with Jesse being the first and only one you got. There's no pressure above your shoulders and you started to understand there's no need to hyperventilate when you have to meet again, as it probably won't happen that many times and then, once he's gone, you'll never see him again. Jesse will be a distant reminder, but a good one as he was the first boy you ever let yourself dance with, kiss you and hold hands, even if it wasn't in any romantic way. It was simple, uncomplicated and memorable. Why this time then? Trip to Porto started with no expectations and it remained so with the heavy rain you had to endure. Yet, if you're honest to yourself, you crushed a little on Jesse the moment you started to see beyond the unimpressive mental picture you wrongly had of him. Then he had dinner at the same table you did. You talked, you smiled. He was looking the most attractive you'd ever seen. Then, much later on, he joined the night out. An interesting guy, someone that made you smile. Someone that prefered to hit the most beautiful McDonalds in the world instead of continuing party, like the party boy he seems to be would. Maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe not. Whatever it was made me feel a certain vibe and, I guess, this was the game changing criteria. Next day you barely talked, which wasn't unusual. Until that happy hour. Until you teamed up for beer pong. You lost it, yet it was still a good time. I don't know how many hours later, pub crawl half way through, your paths cross again. Seeing him - and again looking good - made you nervous and without a clue what to do. Normally you would ignore and run away, which you kinda did for a while, but when you finally hit the club it no longer went like that. Somehow, without you realizing, he was there and he got your attention. You dared him to break VIP, which he said he would only do if you tag along. You did. Except none of that work. Didn't matter cause you just moved along with the group. You might've been 40 people in total , but for some reason Jesse was the only one you noticed around. Sharing beers and dance beats, things just went off. I didn't even realize how he got so close to me, much less dance in sync, bodies glued to each other. You were hella nervous, couldn't stop smiling or laughing or touching your hair. His words softened your nervous awkwardness and that, for the first time ever, made you get into the game. Things didn't escalated quickly because of you. Inexperience was undermining, as usual, your confidence and guts. Yet, you looked around and you knew everyone had realized Jesse and your's proximity. You could tell the surprise looks, some were even disappointed and disapproving looks. You didn't care. When he finally asked if he could kiss you it was like "shit, i gotta run now". I don't know what made you stay there - maybe it was because you had been enjoying his words, how pretty he made you feel, how secure his arms felt, or how good his touch felt. Maybe a mix of everything. Bottom line is that you said your thruth, that this would be your first kiss, despite how pathetic it must've sound. He still went through after giving you space and time to come to term about what was about to happen. It happened. His lips on yours. A new sensation, a new movement, a new experience. Then another time and another and many times on. You were embarrassed and worried you were the worst in it, most of all you didn't want him to laugh at you. He didn't. Never. Not once. He just kept on dancing with you, more kisses and gently ones on your forehead and cheek, especially when you were to shy to give more than two kisses in a row. At some point you were just loose and happy. That night you had fun. You two walked alone until the hostel, at some time holding hands, waiting for the elevator. I will always wonder what else would've happen if the other girls didn't join us at the lift. What if it was just the two of you in the empty hallway. Instead there was no opportunity for words...nor more kisses. That was it. You even stayed long in the hallway as if he would go down again. He didn't, but he had texted. He wanted more. That was it. The end? Probably. Next morning you had no idea what to do. Your mind was everywhere. Luckily, the habit lf not engaging with conversations with him during the day made it less hard. But there was that moment after we left the restaurant, or was it just my imagination? Maybe it was me who ruined it. It doesn't really matter. I'm pretty sure you and him never got to it again, you probably never really talked much after. He might've meant all he said that night, be genuinely interested in your company or, in contrast, you were just the girl for the night, a buddy to win over, someone that he saw available and possibly easy to get. Well, it doesn't really matter. Truly. Weird, uh? But it is the thruth. Your mind is at ease. Whatever happened in Porto stays in Porto. This is the story of your first kiss. What has happened since then?