I met #102 at a party. We had some common interests, things I didn’t even get to talk about with other people all that much, so we were getting along well, and then at one point he took my hand, and we just sat there holding hands and kept on talking to people and it felt pretty nice because I knew what was coming next.
Except I didn’t entirely. We eventually went out into the hallway and started to kiss, which was where it all went horribly wrong. His tongue snaked in and out of my mouth at high speed. Why? Why would somebody kiss like that? I was horrified and I just couldn’t sustain it.
He was really nice, so I opted for the “actually my head is really messed up and I’m still getting over a relationship” tactic. This was sort of true but it had been months since I’d split up with #78 and I’d already had a couple relationships and plenty more escapades; still, it afforded me a handy excuse. #102 was disappointed, but understanding. We talked for a while longer, but it felt too awkward now. Not long after, I gave up and left the party altogether, seeing as my disclaimer meant I couldn’t get off with anybody else.