First Kiss

I love Snoopy with his typewriter.  Some days I feel like I’m sitting on top of a doghouse, writing, or trying to write, anyway.  I recently got hold of some old notebooks and binders of my writings from high school; my class journals and short stories that reflected grade marks at the tops of their pages.  It has been fun to sit down and read some of my old words and discover how far I’ve come in both experience and ability. 

Writing a “love” short-story is a little difficult when you have no experience!  Yes, I was one of those girls in high school.  Boy crazy but no one was really interested in being stalked.  (Just joking!  I was too shy to stalk anyone.)  But writing about it was different.  I had an imagination.  I knew what I wanted to happen – my lips to caress those attached to some cute male specimen.  The thought made me breathless and giggly.  My girlfriends and I talked in depth about those tender moments we couldn’t wait to encounter.  Boy, did we talk!

My first kiss came on a warm summer night in mid-July between my junior and senior years in high school.  I remember being nervous and googly-eyed.  It was my two best friends and I along with him and two of his friends, all hanging out together.  The parings began and soon I was alone with him, booted out of my own car, and standing on a dirt road out in the country.  (It was a small town so getting to the country was a very short drive.)  Asking me questions, he soon discovered I was a virgin kisser and with what little I understood at the time, the game was on!  Oh, how I wanted that kiss – and got it too.  But drawing a line on the dirt road of where exactly those kisses might lead put a little damper on the evening.   

It didn’t matter.  Having had my fantasies brought to life at last, I was the princess going home to her castle.  However, the princess was late, curfew broken, and the king was none too happy about it.  I scarcely remember his raised voice, the stripping of my car keys, and the grounding lain out before me.  My eyes were sparkling as I relived the feel of those soft lips covering my own, the nerve-endings throughout my body responding, even hours later, while my father's anger exploded around me.  I went to my room smiling, wanting to be alone with my thoughts so that I could relive the evening.  Whatever else happened to me that night was of little consequence.  My feet were not even touching the ground.   

Thank you B – for those memories make me smile, even now, many years and two marriages later.  I guess that first kiss is special and one you truly never forget. 

That's enough of my gushing for today.  We are only the sum of our experiences.  I hope the sharing of my story takes you back to your first kiss and that you remember yours as fondly as I have.