Kisses...

“Everyone remembers their first kiss.”

“I don’t.”

“What? How can you not remember your first kiss?”

“I guess it’s more that I’m not sure what my first kiss was. I mean clearly your first kiss was from a family member when you were born.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, the first person to kiss you was probably your mother. But I’m talking about your first kiss from the opposite sex.”

“My dad.”

“Okay, no, I mean romantically.”

“Why does your first romantic kiss have to be from the opposite sex?”

“Okay, sure, so your first non-family, romantic kiss. Everyone remembers that.”

“When I was a kid there was a game in elementary school called ‘Catch ‘em, Kiss ‘em’ where a boy would chase the girls around or a girl would chase the boys and if they could catch them, they kissed them. Does that count as a first romantic kiss? Because I know some people viewed that as their first kiss but it’s more like ‘Sexual assault for beginners’ when you really think about it.”

“Geez, okay, no that doesn’t count. And where were the teachers when this was going on? Chasing and kissing? Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. And there was always one kid who was way too into the game. Like that’s all they wanted to play.”

“Okay, that’s just kind of…”

“Innocent tomfoolery. That’s what it would have been viewed as. The same as when a boy would hit you or pop your bra strap or call you vicious names and the teachers, the principal, the gym coach, your parents, would tell you that it was because he liked you. So, if that kid cornered you in the hallway and kissed you, was that your first kiss?”

“Oh, fuck no. That doesn’t count.”

“There was a boy I went to church with who told everyone his first kiss was with me. You want to know how it happened?”

“I’m afraid of how this is going to go, but okay.”

“So, we were like 7 or 8, just little kids really, and we were on a church picnic by a lake. He asked me if I wanted to see something cool. Of course I wanted to see something cool. We walked down to the lake edge, and he pointed at something on the ground and said, ‘Look’ so I looked. And there was nothing there but rocks and water. I looked up to tell him that I couldn’t see the cool thing and when I raised my face he was right there and kissed me. Then said that that was the cool thing.”

“Ew.”

“Yep. And then he and his sister told everyone we were now boyfriend and girlfriend because we were kissing by the lake. I got a lecture from my mother about letting boys kiss me. He got to be the cool kid who already had a girlfriend. So, is that my first romantic kiss?”

“No. I don’t think that counts. Do you remember the first time you wanted someone to kiss you? That you wanted to kiss someone? That, I think, would be the first time.”

“I kissed a lot of people before I really wanted to be kissed by someone. There were games of spin the bottle. Seven minutes in heaven. Truth or dare. There was a lot of kissing before we even all reached dating age. And even then, there were a lot of dates that ended with a kiss that I would have been fine not kissing that person. Had no real desire to kiss them actually. But it was just what you did. You kissed. So, none of those count is what you are saying?”

“Well, yeah, no. Maybe? I don’t know now. Now I’m not even sure what my first kiss was.”

“I’m sorry. You can hold on to what you thought your first kiss was. It’s a better story than not knowing. But maybe…”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe it’s not terrible to not know. I mean you have no idea what your last kiss will be. Like in movies you see the last kiss between a couple as one is dying, the music swells, the tears fall, it’s all very moving. But in real life people die unexpectedly. Maybe the quick kiss before your spouse leaves for work is the last one you’ll ever have. Maybe the breakup kiss you had with your last partner is the last time you’ll kiss someone that passionately. The world isn’t tidy.”

“And you think that’s not terrible?”

“Yeah, I mean if this could be the last kiss you’ll ever have, then isn’t it sweeter? Shouldn’t every kiss then mean something? Kiss every kiss like it might be your last.”

“That’s a lot of pressure for a kiss.”

“It is. That’s true. So maybe it’s not a big deal to not remember your first.”

 “You could have just started with you didn’t think kissing was all that important.”

“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t remember my first kiss. I don’t remember my first, I don’t know what my last will be. I’m okay with that. I do remember one of my best kisses.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“We were picking peaches on a school outing. Peaches right from the tree when they are perfectly ripe and just a little warm from the sun are the best thing in the world. Taking a bite out of one of those perfect peaches and the juice fills your mouth and drips down your chin, and everyone is laughing and cannot believe that this fruit could be this perfect. And all you want to do is sit in the sun and eat those perfect peaches and laugh with your friends. To this day I can still smell the sweetness in the air and feel the sun on my face and hear the laughter of my friends.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Where was the kiss?”

She smiled, closed her eyes and softly touched her lips. “Right there.”

 

Writing prompt: Write about a first or last kiss. 
Fun fact, I did include my "first kiss" in the story.