For the longest time imaginable, I had always been a 'good girl'. I was the type of girl who came back home on time, the type that never complained, the type that was grateful about what life had to give her, the type that stayed silent and watched the world pass by. The type who did not have much to desire for. Although there were some dreams I wanted to achieve on my own, I always knew that my life would not be anything extraordinary. And I was fine with the direction it was headed to.
How do you justify falling in love for the first time? How do you explain, and convince yourself that you are in love? All the novels that I had read growing up, wrote about a thunderous spark that rises up from deep within you. A spark that is hard to extinguish. A spark that ignites the corners of your soul.
How do you experience a feeling like that and still remain a human? How?
The first time I fell in love was nothing electric. It was ordinary, calm, and peaceful. Violence disguised as love was not my answer then, but as I grew older, I started seeking it more and more. I started seeking more... destruction. But that is for later, for when I have dwelled enough into my journey and the person I became.
On the day I turned into a woman, I was a giant mush of anxiety. I had read and researched about it, had asked my friends about what to expect, and yet the thought terrified me. I'm doing it out of love, I kept telling myself. Love compels you to bare your heart, sure, but baring your body was a territory I was not familiar with.
"Are you sure this is going to be okay?" I whispered, hardly audible. My breath was stuck in my throat. The idea terrified me, and yet... I knew this was going to be transformative. Something beyond anything I had ever experienced.
"There's nothing to worry about," he reassured me with a kind smile, "just do what your body tells you to. Listen to what it has to say."
That was easier said than done.
I had never been confronted with acceptance for my body. Sure, living with a body you are familiar with is something that everyone does, but experiencing different things with it were something I had never imagined myself to do.
The thought of my first kiss lingered in my mind, and I suddenly remembered how detached I had felt when it had happened. I did not not like it; I just did not know what to expect, or feel.
I took a deep breath and looked at the person sitting in front of me. I loved him, for whatever this was going to be, I knew I loved him at that moment. And the confidence in my feelings were what mattered to me.
"Just close your eyes," he said as he came closer, "don't think too much."
I nodded my head and did what I was told to, half-terrified, half-excited.
"We can stop whenever you want," he whispered in my ears as he got even closer, "I just want to make you feel good."
"This feels new," I looked at him, "but I don't want it to stop."
He placed his cold hand on my thigh, making the motion of a circle on my exposed skin. Maybe the room was especially cold, but I could feel a jolt. Was it the air, or my excitement pulsing through?
"You smell so good," he whispered in pleasure as he takes a whiff of my neck. The warm air from his breath was in deep contrast with the cold air, essentially making me lose my mind even more, "I could smell you like this all day."
"That's all?" I smirked.
He smiled back at me as he slowly started to unbutton my blouse, "Not at all. There's so much more I wanna do to you."
