Kapitel 9: 7. First Kiss

-Memory 7-

-Monaco-

-MKTO-

We will never say goodbye, right? During my life, I've experienced both goodbyes and rencounters. And both are hard to digest. No, I don't want to freak you out, I'm not writing a goodbye or a rencounter. Just make sure to remember this later.

Since Sea became my girlfriend, peace and calm invaded my routine. Every day, little by little, I fell in love a little more with her. Limerence II, remember? The arrival of the Jealousy was just around the corner, and it would bring trouble with it.

Our story continues on May 10 —2017, in case you haven't been paying attention—. That Wednesday afternoon, I spent my time with Sea during our free hour. We stayed seated over some metal benches painted with a rusty blue. The clouds in the sky covered the sunlight, giving a dark and cold afternoon to everyone who was in the school at that hour. There weren't a lot of people around, in exception of two other couples on the edges of that large bench. Both of us were wearing a black colored necklace, with a ring hanging from it with a nice Triforces' design —again, Google—, and both had a bright black color.

—Who was your first kiss? —she asked with innocent curiosity.

—Well... I... I haven't kissed anyone yet —I answered, embarrassed.

—Really?! —she replied, shocked.

—Well, actually... —in that instant, I turned myself, looked her in the eyes, used my hand to softly get closer to her and, slowly, I kissed her.

That was my first kiss, and I remember it as if it had happened yesterday. However, that wasn't the last one. A month and a half later, summer arrived, and vacations came with it. During our first week of freedom —on Thursday—, I invited Sea, The Messy Haired Friend With Glasses and another guy home to play videogames, eat, and watch a movie. I remember that I also invited Roy, but he couldn't assist because, back then, he was in the United States —and that was when I knew that, actually, he was American; this explained his perfect English—.

Sea was the second to arrive, followed by The Messy Haired Friend With Glasses —don't think that I don't know his name or anything, I'm just saving it for whenever it's something pertinent—. After her arrival, we ate pizza while watched Now You See Me. When we were done eating, we played Super Smash Bros for Wii U —and again, Google—. If you don't know or don't care about videogames, you're free to skip the next paragraph.

Sea, like almost every girl in the game, played with Kirby, while I, loyal to my favorite saga, played with Link. The Messy Haired Friend With Glasses chose Little Mac and the other guy fought with Ness. After some group battles, we did 1vs1 in couples, from which Sea won 2 and I won 3. Done, after this long geek interlude, we can continue with the story.

When we were done playing, it was already dark outside, so we decided to keep watching Now You See Me 2. By then, one of my friends had already left, and we were just Sea, The Messy Haired With Glasses, Adam and I left in the room. During the movie, I perceived her sweet essence and enjoyed it during all the time I spent by her side. I became addicted to her, addicted to her smile, her bright brown-colored eyes, her smell, hugs, and petting. They say that those things that we enjoy the most are the ones that last the least; those small and wonderful miracles that we call instants, in which the souls of two lovers are so close to each other than they can barely touch, to the point in which they seem to be just one soul. That peace, in which you know that everything will be alright and that you're where you're meant to be, and most importantly, with who you're meant to be. Unfortunately, those are the most fleeting moments in life. Those instants are the living essence of my memories.

—I love you —I whispered to her ear after kissing her.

—Me too.

I know I said that I wouldn't write any goodbye, but with this, I meant a permanent goodbye. The temporary goodbyes will always be there, just as those that are permanent. And there's nothing worse than knowing that you will say goodbye to somebody, eventually. That's is why every time I drove her home, I don't do anything else but holding her hand, knowing that, probably, I won't see her tomorrow. Or the next day, nor the next one —nor the next of the next one—. Yes, love; if you ever get to read everything that I've written and everything that I will write, you need to know what I felt in each memory I share with you, just like with every song that I have in my mind, that reminds me of you.

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