epsiode 8

The Teenage Diaries

Dear diary,

Yesterday was very exciting. I went to a party at someone’s house. There were lots of boys there, and no parents!!!! There was even alcohol!!!! I was with my friend and we both saw two boys we really, really liked the look of. It was cool though because they came over and talked to us and we were really, really lucky because the one I liked seemed to like me and the one my friend liked, liked her!
Anyway, the music was really cool and everyone was dancing and stuff, but in the end after a few too many alcopops I was snogging the boy I liked. He was a really good kisser.
My friend came and found me because we were really late home, and stuff, and we had to get a taxi, but it was well worth it, because those boys were really, really fit.
I went to bed with a smile on my face. Oh, diary, I do hope that we see those boys again.

OK. It was one of those nights. A group of us went out for dinner and drinks, we then went back to someone’s flat for more drinks, and then we went back to someone else’s. Get the idea. So, there were no parents, and thankfully no alcopops, only wine and Champagne. And the boys weren’t ‘really, really,’ and they weren’t even boys. But I did end up kissing someone, and I did feel like a teenager.
Note: only a couple of weeks ago I was moaning about young boys, who were probably more mature than I felt right now.
Anyway, there is nothing wrong with a good, old fashioned snog is there? In fact, this party was something of a victory for me, as the last man I kissed made me feel like a weird version of the whore of Babylon. Feeling like a teenager had to be some kind of improvement, surely? It certainly is. We might get older, and we might think we’re wiser. We might be more liberated, or feel that as we know what we want we’ll go for it, but some things don’t change with age. Because it all starts with a kiss.
And a kiss can make me feel now as I always did when I kissed someone new. Let’s face it, unless the person is a tooth-clunker, or has bad breath, or mistakes kissing for consuming, it’s nice. It’s sexy, but chaste, it’s warm and it makes you feel good. Obviously it is seen as a prelude for other things, but the great thing about kissing is that it can be a lengthy and very enjoyable prelude.
And I’d forgotten how good it could be. Going back to the uncomplicated kissing of my youth, I remembered how easy it sometimes seemed back then. And, I purposefully forgot how awful it could be too. The thing is that this was the first time I’d kissed a man since my ex and not felt awful, not felt scared, not felt anything but giggly and smiley. Whether that was because he was a really good kisser, or because I was so pleased with myself for moving on, I don’t know. I like to think it might have been a combination of both.
You do move on. Even if at the time you think there’s no way, you just do. And if you don’t desperately try to replace the love of your life immediately, but slowly ease yourself back into the dating game, one day you do meet someone you want to kiss. I don’t know if my recovery (which believe me is ongoing) is slow, fast or medium, but it’s happening and that’s all that matters.
And I didn’t think that because I’d kissed this man that I would kiss him again. Or even see him again. It wasn’t that, but the way I felt meant I was ready for more. I know that I’m not ready for a serious relationship, but in the meantime I will let myself enjoy myself, and if that involves kissing cute guys, and behaving like a teenager, then so be it.
After speaking to friends who were or had been single recently, they said that dating in your thirties sometimes feels no different to when you were much younger. Apart from the fact that dinner is more normal than dancing in a youth club, the feelings meeting new men invoke can be related back. And any giggly, fun feeling has to be a good thing, and for now that’s what I need.

Dear diary

I saw my friend yesterday. We giggled so much about last night, those well fit boys and everything. We agreed it was a really good party and my parents didn’t even find out that I was really late or really drunk although I was really, really hungover today.
We went to buy some chips and some lads were hanging around the chip shop. A couple of them were fit, and they thought we were too because they threw their chips at us. We ran and giggled, but they caught us and we went to sit in the park. While we were there they went to get some cider and while they were gone I asked my friend about the boys last night. We decided that they were very, very fit but these boys were even fitter, and they looked old enough to get served in the offie. When they came back we shared some cider. Then I kissed the one that liked me and my friend kissed the one that liked her.
I didn’t get home late because I’ve got school tomorrow.

Oh diary, I really really hope that we see those boys again.

Next Week: The Four Minute Relationship