traumatic-first-kissBut first, before I tell you about our epic “first kiss,” let me tell you what I saw sitting in front of me both before and after.

BEFORE: I saw an incredibly beautiful woman. I saw soft skin and beautiful curves. I saw a mind that was so engaging and fascinating to get lost in. I saw eyes that could easily draw you into their eternally satisfying gaze. I saw lips that I wanted to feel pressed against mine. I saw hair that I wanted to run my fingers through to feel its silky magnificence. I saw a person that I had become so enthralled with and knew that I would most likely want to see again, and again, and again.

AFTER: I saw the devil. Mixed with a feral cat. Mixed with the deep and unmistakable desire to run away as fast as my fear could push me.

But where were we? Ah, yes. We moved to the couch to… umm… talk…

We edged slightly closer to one another as we talked.

And closer.

Soon our legs were touching.

And our hands.

We were staring at each other’s mouths.

That’s the sign, you know. The sign that you’re both done talking.

I went in for the kiss because society says that’s the man’s job.

And before I got there…

And this is true.

She reached out and grabbed my face fiercely and violently with both hands. The speed with which she did this was chilling at best.

Then she whipped and cranked my head to one side as if she was giving me a chiropractic adjustment.

At this point I was so confused. It was all happening so fast. I had no idea how to even begin to process this. And I wouldn’t need to because what came next would take all the mental processing power I had.