I don't remember my first kiss with my first girlfriend, but we only dated for a month, and she turned out to be a psycho bitch, so I won't talk about that.

What I will talk about is my first kiss with my most recent girlfriend, which I remember like it was yesterday. It was our first actual date. We had been on a double date with her friend and a scary guy from our mutual place of employment, and decided to go to a dance together, but this was a real date. We spent the day rollerblading around Lake Calhoun in Minneapolis, and had a nice dinner at Applebee's. Afterwards we rented a couple of movies and went to her house, and watched them in her room.

There was incredible sexual tension while we watched Tin Cup, but we were both too nervous to do anything but hold hands. I mustered up enough courage to kiss her as the credits started rolling, and we made out until the tape ran out. After the TV went all static-y, we took a time-out to put Twelve Monkeys in the VCR, watched about five minutes of it, and began to make out again. This lasted well unto the wee hours of the morn -- nothing but kissing, caressing, and conversation. It was one of the happiest days of my life. It started a long, wonderful, difficult relationship that ended only a few days ago.

Now she is seeing some Japanese guy. I am very depressed.