Somehow I am able to keep up with this challenge even though I never continue what I said I would, but this time it's different. Again today's topic is quite difficult for me as I don't believe in love.

 In fact to be honest I don't think I've ever fallen in love. Yes, I've had crushes just like any other girl, but I really don't think I have ever experienced real first love. When I say first love I mean the one that we see in movies where girls can't stop thinking about the boy or where they get butterflies and all of these things. Neither have I experienced first love like in romantic songs. Not yet at least.

 While saying this makes me look like I never been in a relationship before. I have been in a few, but not sure if after a few years I will consider them as real relationships. In the future, they will be considered as just things that I've had with boys, but not relationships filled with love and butterflies and cheesy things like that.

 As I can't speak about first love I will write about my first relationship. I will write about my first boyfriend. It was not poetic. The most accurate word to describe it would be ironic. We met in my first year of high school which was a boarding school. At the beginning of the academic year, we actually couldn't stand each other. Things changed at the last term, or at least that's when I found out that they had changed. Later on, I got told that they actually had started changing at the end of the second term.

 The first time we started really speaking was at around that time actually. It was completely random. None of us had planned it to happen, or maybe that is true only for me. We were at a party and everyone was close to being wasted. Me on the other hand as I have a high alcohol tolerance was just tipsy. As I couldn't stand anymore all of the noise I went outside to smoke a cigarette. This is something I do even though I am not proud of it and I am really trying to change it. He was there as well doing the same thing as me. 

 I sat in front of him and asked him for a lighter as he was the only familiar face there outside and at the time I didn't feel comfortable asking strangers for that. He very politely lit up my cigarette and we started talking about topics that I really didn't speak much of, even with my friends. We were talking about our plans for the future and also ranting about things we didn't like about the school. For some reason, we both forgot that we disliked each other. Maybe it was just the alcohol and the cigarettes that made us do that. That is where it all started I think.

 Then months passed and nothing new happened. We didn't speak so I just completely let it go. Drunk people might do what they really want to do as in that state they have no filters, but when they sober up then they just want to forget by pretending that it didn't happen. That is what he did and I just decided to follow him on that.

 We continued not speaking until the last term of our first year. In that term, a new girl came who soon became one of my closest friends at the time, maybe the closest. Both, my friend and this boy spoke the same language, a language that I didn't understand a word from.

 She started telling me that he likes me. At first, I didn't believe her as I thought it was just a joke and I really didn't have any interest in him. Then I found out that she was telling the truth 3 weeks before the end of the year, on what my school calls a "graduation dinner". It starts formal and then it just turns into a wild mess full of drunk people. Me and him being a part of those.

 It started with his friends coming up to me and saying that he likes me. Again I didn't believe them as they probably had planned a big joke on me. I wasn't going to have any of it.

  Then he comes up to me when the slow music started. He asks me for a dance, and me just wanting to be polite accepts. For me that dance meant nothing. In the middle of the dance, he gets really close to me. As I have seen enough movies I already knew where this was heading to, a kiss, but I didn't want to so I just decided to create a little bit of distance from us. For some reason, he doesn't understand the signal and he tries to kiss me by standing next to my face. Others noticed this and they started crowding on us and encouraging us to kiss. I still didn't want this. 

 See ? This is what I mean when I say that my first relationship was not like in the movies. If it was a movie, I would be dancing with a boy I really like and I wouldn't need a crowd to encourage us to kiss. 

It was a loud noise following all this and it caught the attention of one important staff member. I really don't remember all the details as at the time I was quite full of alcohol, but I do remember that that was my moment of salvation. The moment when I could escape. 

 None of us spoke about this the few following days. We both tried to pretend as it didn't happen, but he was the first one to break. He wanted to speak about all of these.

 It happened very awkwardly as I was just walking with my friends and he was talking with his friends. Then they all started speaking their language. Confusion had built around me as I couldn't understand a single thing about what was going on. Afterwards, he approaches me and says that he needs to talk to me. We decide to take a walk and speak. I have always liked walking when I had to make a serious conversation.

 I don't remember what he said, maybe because I really wasn't focused on it. I do remember that he said what everyone was already telling me. He liked me and he wanted to be with me. I couldn't see a reason why not. I didn't have strong feelings for him, but I did like the few times we had spoken. Therefore I was ok to be with him. I accepted him. 

 After that talk, he stops me in front of the classrooms and he gently pins me against the wall of one of the classrooms. His face is extremely close to mine. I knew he wanted that kiss. There was no one around. I had the privacy that I needed so I went for it. And that is how my first kiss happened.

 Again, it was nothing like in the movies. It was not exciting. I didn't feel the need to lift on foot on the air. I didn't have the urge to call all of my friends and tell them about what had just happened. 

 After that kiss, we were official. In a lot of other people's eyes, we were sort of mediocre. I would say that sometimes I do agree with them, but overall it was not that bad. It was easy to talk with him and we actually had things to talk about.

 It was a good time. The last morning of us being together started in quite of an exciting way. We were breaking rules.This fueled us with adrenaline and laughter. Then it was not so happy. As hours were passing by I was starting to understand that these were the last hours of us ever being with each other. He didn't want to accept it, but I am sure that he knew it too.  

 Then it was time to leave. Quickly we smoked one last cigarette together and we had one last kiss. Even though he didn't want to accept it, in the moment he stepped foot on that coach to go to the airport, I knew it was all over. Later on, his friends told me that he cried a little. He knew it too.

 During summer holidays we tried to keep it up by talking every day, but long-distance almost never works, not for people like us at least. After we broke up we tried on to keep talking like before, but soon we ran out of things to say. Conversations turned into random checks and then it was nothing.

 All of this happened on the course of less than a month.