Because it’s February, I’ll play dirty. Only because I rarely am.

Let’s begin then with a kiss.

My first kiss was with a girl who flirted with me when I was, uh, a little girl. I forgot how it felt, but I knew it was wrong because her mother caught us and she was whipped.

My first kiss from a boy fell squarely on my cheek, to my surprise,and all the kids around us were cheering. I forgot how it felt but I knew it was wrong because someone was worried and said I might get pregnant.

My first kiss with some gay guy was forced by me, because I thought he’s yummy and popular and he thinks he’s yummy and popular, and we’re on the same bed, so what the hell. But I knew it was wrong because we never talked about it.

My first kiss with a stranger was two years ago, month of February. The stranger bought me a drink and smelled so good, I couldn’t resist the temptation of his body scent and breath, I kissed him. And I knew it was right because he became my boyfriend after that, for two years now.