"I don't know what
I'm doing, Sarah,"
he says, shivering.
I don't either.

It began innocently,
enough.
He's my best friend.
This should be taboo,
right?

I stood in his doorway,
holding the knob,
with my left hand,
from behind me.
I took off his glasses
with my right hand,
I grabbed the back
of his head,
gently.

I leaned in.
Our lips touched,
then opened,
then touched.
Soon, my heart
was pumping;
my stomach was
turning,
my legs went weak,
my body became
numb.

We were gasping
for breath,
so we pulled apart.
In a shaking,
shivering embrace,
our hearts seemed
to become one.

I'm not supposed to
feel like this.
What if
I wasn't supposed to be
his first kiss?

I almost apologized.
Instead I asked,
"Are you sorry?"
Me either.
 
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