<story=true>
When I was in third grade I had a crush on a girl in my class. Her name was, Jennifer... maybe. All the sudden I can't remember her name, it was a long time ago. Well, her name isn't important. She had agreed to be my "girlfriend". I recall being very excited about the prospect of having a girlfriend. She was a very nice girl and she smelled nice, always a bonus. One day after classes were out I was walking home when she appoached me. She pulled me with her around to the back of the school. She told me she wanted to kiss her "boyfriend". I'm sure my juvenille heart nearly burst with excitement. I was going to kiss a girl! This was a big deal. In a minute I would truly become a man.
She leaned forward and hesitantly but gently planted a kiss on my lips. I'm sure I was trembling. I remember she smelled like strawberries and her lips faintly tasted of chapstick. As she leaned back form the kiss she muttered, "that was nice". Then she kicked me in the nuts. I fell to my knees in the snow. Wincing in pain, I barely refrained from vomitting. She giggled and pranced off.
Thus began years of social mis-development and distrust.
</story>