I dreamt of us – kissing. It was strange. Very unlikely for me to dream of. I should be happy, right? Because for the first time, I thought of you knowing that love was no longer unrequited for you. And of course, why shouldn’t I be? I could have had my first kiss if it was true.
But I rarely dream of sweet dreams. I dream of nightmares most of the time. And that dream I had of you was just another nightmare that might or might not come true. I should have known better.
Because in that dream, the moment your lips left mine, regrets came rushing in. Why? Why did I ever give my first kiss to you? I closed my eyes, knew your lips touched mine, tasted the mint you just had and felt the movement of our lips in sync. But that was all. I didn’t see fireworks, I never heard the birds singing love songs nor have I felt the spark that should have been there. And I knew just then, I’ll regret it.
Because that kiss, my first kiss, wasn’t magical. That kiss with you wasn’t magical. You were not magical. And although I know that love is not always magical, I know it will always be real.