Do you remember your first kiss? I do. I won’t lie and say I remember it like it was yesterday, but I do remember it pretty clearly. Her name was Jenny Kramer and I think I was 12 years old, maybe 13. She was an older woman at 15 years old. I think about that now and it seems somewhat odd, but I was tall for my age, so maybe that had something to do with it. I had already ‘asked her out,’ but we hadn’t kissed yet. It was all pretty much new to me and I had no idea what to do. She asked me to sneak out of my house at night to meet up with her, and I readily agreed.
It was late, sometime after midnight. I crept through the subdivision, from backyard to backyard, doing my best to stay in the shadows. Of course, I was good at that because I had watch a movie about a ninja and had already been practicing my ninja skills. I arrived at her house after having successfully dodged all the car traffic, guard dogs and other ninjas who were out at night. It was a close thing though, after all she lived a block away.
As I look up to her second floor window, I have a new task at hand. How to wake her up, or if she is awake, how to let her know I’m here without waking up the rest of the house. The old tried and true method of throwing a rock seemed the way to go. But how to do that? I mean in the movies they just pick one up and throw it. First I had to find a God damned rock. Then what size? I need one that is big enough to make noise, but not so big that I’d break the window. And then how hard do I throw the thing. I pick up a pebble and throw it. Of course, I missed, so I had to find another one. Second one hit, but I could barely hear it, and judging by the way she fails to come to the window, neither did she. Third attempt. I’m kinda frustrated, so I just wing the fucker. It hits. No broken glass, but the neighbors dog is now barking. I’m think I’m found out, but no adults come to scold me and send me on my way. Instead, Jenny comes to the window and indicates she’ll be right down.
She suggests going to a nearby park to hang out for a bit. Sounds good to me. She holds my hand and we walk a few blocks to a nearby park. On the sidewalk. Where anyone can see us. Apparently, she either hasn’t practiced or hasn’t heard of ninja skills. Either way, we make it unmolested.
We talk for a little bit when we reach the park. Right at the edge of the park they are making a new subdivision. What’s more, they are making a small lake. The lake had been dug out the previous fall and the small stream that feeds into it was filling it up. As I recall there wasn’t a lot of grass on the small hill leading to the lake. But that’s where it happened, my first kiss. Standing on a small hill over looking a lake, while the moon’s light shone down on us. It sounds so romantic, and it was. There is always something magical about holding someone close, feeling the heat of their body against yours, gazing into their eyes, leaning in close to one another and anticipating the moment your lips touch.
But your first kiss? It’s so fucking awkward. At least for me, someone who was extremely self conscious, it was. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I loved it, and I’m so grateful Jenny was willing to kiss me. Sometimes I feel that if she hadn’t been that I’d still be waiting to have my first kiss. I was that shy back then. Even as it was, I was anxious, my mouth was dry, and what the fuck are you supposed to do with your tongue? It’s such a fine line between too much and not enough, or at least I found out there was a line.
In the end, first kisses can be scary, but also amazing. In a way, I guess they’re an indication of new beginnings, of promises and possibilities. Relationships don’t always last, but every one that I’ve been in I’ve learned something new about myself, and I will always treasure those moments.
