It's not true that insomniacs don't sleep. It's probably more accurate to say that we don't sleep well. Personally, I sleep in blocks. Deep, intense blocks that can last between 1 hour and 4 hours.
Well, I just had a dream/memory about my first kiss. I was fourteen years old and at a wedding in France. It was my Aunt's (by marriage) brother's wedding. It was very cool because I was getting a lot of attention for being the American and I looked kind of older than the 14 year old girls in France because in the 80's it was just like that. I don't know if it still is.
Anyway, my Aunt's brother Didier's wife Collette, had this cousin who I guess I was flirting with but didn't realize I was doing it. After a few hours of dancing (French people can party), I went outside for some air and this cute cousin of hers followed me outside. He was speaking crappy English to match my crappy French and while he was talking to me he kept moving in closer......and then he did that leaning in thing. I had no idea what was going on and all of a sudden my lips were wet and being mashed into my face.
I remember my heart started to beat a little faster. I was thinking "Wow, I'm making out with someone" and his body was leaning into mine and it was so exciting. That was the first time I ever felt that way. But I stopped it because I wasn't entirely comfortable with what was going on. I left him there and went back inside.
It's a nice memory. Up to a certain point.
A little bit later, the entire wedding party followed the married couple in a procession to their home and it's at that point in the celebration when you accompany the married couple to their wedding bed and make them drink champaign from an oversized glass smeared with chocolate (it supposed to look like a used toilet, don't ask). After that, I saw him talking to my Aunt and I think she told him how young I was. Of course, I thought he knew I was young. You should also know that I thought he was 15 or 16 but he was actually much older. Well, after he spoke with my Aunt I remember he gave me a really dirty look and marched away. I never really figured out what was really going on until way later, because, yes, I was that innocent.
Also, I was wearing a very pretty dress my mother had made me. It was white with purple flowers.
Isn't fun, how vivid a memory can be?