Kiss

I find myself having dreams about kissing Nick. Creepy or sweet? Well, I read about it, and it could just be hormornal imbalance, which for a teenager is completly normal. But I like to think that my dreams mean something.
We're talking and I know I'm leaving him soon so I kiss him in the heat of the moment. He seems to like it, but we both go to this fancy thing with books and stuff and we stay in the same hotel room, but in different beds. Hello, I try not to think of him in that way.
When I'm getting that time of the month, I can't help it and he's MUCHO sexxxxxy :) but I digress. Ha, I bet everyone's recoiling in horror by now. But I do love him.
So we're going through the store and normally we'd be together but he's ignoring me so because I'm me I'm with him anyway. He's hiding his face from me behind a book, laughing with his friends. Hurt, I walk away.
I climb into bed with a ribbed tank top and short shorts, same as always. But I feel like... Indescribable. And Nicks sitting on his bed in pajama pants and no shirt, which is hot, duh. I blush and curl up in bed.
Later I hear him whisper, "Goodnight." I whispered the same back.
We sleep. I wake earlier than he, and I look at him with the dim light of the window. He's beautiful, splayed out on his bed, head facing me, lips like an angel's. He whispers my name softly. I quickly avert my eyes because even though it's sexy and intimate, we're still stuck in the middle of something. We don't fight. We get stuck in crap. And ignore each other. Then I realize he's dreaming about me. My heart throbbed, because I clearly dream about him daily.
So after he wakes up we go back to the store and he's being annoying and ignoring me, save for the glances he apologetically gives me. Finally, I can't take it and I leave to go to the bathroom, balancing in some golden pole next to some aquarium.
So I get out of the bathroom, and there is my love, smiling at me.
"Hey." he says, holding me close and kissing me deeply.
Dude, I have the weirdest dreams. WTF is up with the setting?? And I think I should kiss him, just so he can say "Rachael Walker- the blond one right there-" As he points to a picture- "was my first girlfriend and gave me my first kiss."
And I'llbe like, "Nick Hamilton, the person I loved with all my heart and it was unrequiented but was eventually requinted, and we started going out, but I screwed up my first real, true, crushing love."
I don't want to let him go. When my daughter asks me who my first love was, I don't want to pull out a photo album and show her; I want to be able to point across the room and say, "He's right there." This moving thing would be less hard if my heart didn't find it's match here. It's already hard to leave behind all my friends... I really don't want to leave behind someone who was patient enough to love me.