I Regret Everything: never been kissed

Waiting for "that" moment.

I remember talking with my friends at school about regret. There were definitely two distinct camps that people fell under – those in the first regretted their mistakes and lost opportunities; those in the second regretted nothing. I was never really sure which one I fell into. I’d made many mistakes in my life, and yes, I was sorry for them, but did that mean I regretted them? As some of my friends said then, and countless people since, if I hadn’t made those mistakes and those decisions, then I would not be the same person that I am now. I could not have grown from those experiences if I’d never had them. But to be sorry about hurting someone, that was right wasn’t it? To wish that you hadn’t caused someone else pain, surely that was regret? The more I progressed through life, making decisions, the more I considered the possible paths I could have taken, the person I could have been if I’d chosen a different university, a different course; if I’d lived at home, taken a gap year, gotten a job...so many possibilities. Would I have been happier if things had been different? I can never know. But there is one thing I’d like to share with you, something that I’m not sure if I should regret or not, but which has fundamentally defined my life.

I’ve never been Kissed.

Now for those of you who have seen the movie you’ve probably already started replaying the scene in your head where Drew Barrymore tells her story to the world, but for those of you that haven’t I’ll catch you up. A young copy-editor called Josie goes back to high school undercover on her first assignment as a potential serious journalist. For her it’s an opportunity to live her life again, to change the things that she disliked about her first experience and to “do it right” this time. She wants to be popular, to date the school heartthrob, and more than anything to have her first real kiss.

Now before you start jumping ahead I’d like to point out that I have been kissed before, and by that I mean that at various points in my life – drunk and sober – I’ve had someone else’s tongue in my mouth. But I’ve never had that kiss, the one where you feel that spark. The kiss, where all you could do beforehand was think about being just that little bit closer to someone and wanting more than anything that they would want you back. My first actual kiss was behind a shed, it was a dare, and whilst I really liked the guy there’s only so much romance you can muster when your friends are stood around you giggling and your head is halfway in a conifer. From then on my kisses have pretty much followed a similar pattern: from the first time that I got drunk (unintentionally and undesirably) when someone I’d just met asked me for a hug and then proceeded to crush my lips with his (after which I spent the rest of the night telling people I was gay so that he wouldn’t do it again), to the time when I stood outside of Pizza Hut with my boyfriend - whilst we kissed, all I could think about was cheesy bites...

Many of you probably had a very enjoyable Freshers’ Week, whether staying in or going out; my week fell somewhere in the middle and I did enjoy it, but on the nights out I found myself encountering the same problem over and over: I’d receive advances from guys but I was so preoccupied with the idea of wanting that “real” kiss that I’d reject them instantly. Now you may think that that’s not something to regret and I kind of agree - I think I was better off not going home with a random stranger who for all I know could have had a massive tea towel collection or an unhealthy obsession with cats - but where my real regret lies is the fact that this thought has permeated my attitude towards relationships in general. If there isn’t instant attraction or potential for fireworks, then I shy away from it; and whilst people keep reminding me that attraction grows if you give it a chance, I can’t help not wanting to add to my list of meaningless kisses.

So if I were Josie, would I go back and do things differently? Would I change my attitude if I could, maybe not take things so seriously and stop hoping for something that may not actually exist? Or is that just the person I am, and to regret it would be to regret that I am me? Do I kiss lots of frogs and just hope for a magic moment, or do I wait around until I get a feeling telling me that this frog is The One? By the end of the movie, Josie overcomes her regrets, but unlike her, during the course of my introspection I haven’t fallen for the sweet and good-looking English teacher, I’ve just tidied my room a bit and watched Family Guy. So I won’t be heading out to 22 acres with a microphone and a countdown clock, waiting for someone to come and kiss me… I’ll probably just stick a film on and attempt some work because lift isn’t like the movies.

But I’m still undecided.

To regret or not to regret?

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