In response to : https://wp.me/p4t2PZ-7gR

First Kiss… and the One That Went Wrong

First Kiss… and the One That Went Wrong

My first kiss?

I was about twelve.
It was summer.
Tall grass, golden and whispering around us.

He was the neighbour boy — and my classmate.
We hid as if the whole world was watching.
Terrified someone would see us.

We barely knew what we were doing.
It was shy, clumsy, and completely innocent.
More nerves than technique.
More giggles than passion.

But I remember the feeling —
the electric awareness of something new.
A doorway quietly opening.

Now… my worst kiss?

Years later, I decided to surprise my boyfriend at our local café.
They had huge TV screens playing MTV —
dim lights, music, the perfect dramatic setting.

I saw him sitting there from behind.
Same jacket. Same hair.

I snuck up quietly.
Covered his eyes with my hands.

And went in for a full, confident, cinematic kiss.

He turned.

Two very shocked eyes stared back at me.

It was not my boyfriend.

He blinked and said,
“Well, girl… that was a nice surprise.”

I wanted the earth to swallow me whole.

I ran.
Straight toward the door —
and collided with my actual boyfriend walking in.

“Maggie! Where are you going?” he shouted.

I didn’t stop running.

He eventually found me,
and when I confessed the whole disaster,
he laughed so hard he could barely breathe.

So maybe that was my second lesson in kissing:

The first teaches innocence.
The second teaches humility.

And mostly, it teaches us to laugh at ourselves 💋✨

— Maggie
The Afterlove Voice 💫