I always heard first kisses were something to look forward to. They said it’d be heavenly, spine-tingling and unforgettable.
I remember through middle school that was always a question that seemed to come up…have you kissed anyone yet? Those were the days we still openly called it French kissing. The days when we held and attended our first boy/girl parties and seven minutes in heaven was a valid and much anticipated party game. And no, my first kiss wasn’t in a closet. Although it could have been. One time I got put in a closet with a boy and didn’t kiss him. We just stared at each other, neither willing to make the first move. I still regret not kissing that boy. He grew up to be a mighty handsome man. *Ahem*
No, my kiss didn’t happen until I was in Ninth grade. Yes, I was 14 before I first kissed a boy. I had met a boy at one of those first boy/girl parties. He was my age but he lived in the next town over. But that didn’t stop us from “dating”, “going steady”, “being boyfriend and girlfriend” or whatever you called it. One day said boy came over with a friend to hang out at my house. I don’t recall too much about the visit except that we played a game or two of HORSE on our half basketball court in the backyard. Dad had just had it done and I had spent a good amount of time practicing. The guys were actually impressed with my mad basketball skillz.
The next thing I remember is telling him goodbye in my parents’ foyer. I stood facing towards the door and he stood in front of me. His friend stood a few feet behind him facing me right near the door. I don’t remember how I knew we were supposed to kiss but I knew I was supposed to. And I was FOURTEEN and I KNEW I had to French kiss this time. So we both leaned in with open mouths that eventually met. I remember his tongue awkwardly moving side to side and all the sudden I hear “Close your eyes!” from his friend. I looked at him while still kissing and then snapped my eyes shut, mortified. I think we might have kissed another few seconds and then it was over.
Looking back, the only thing they were right about was that it was unforgettable. Maybe sometimes it’s spine-tingling and heavenly. But sometimes it’s just an awkward, tongue-moving, spit-swapping rite of passage.
Melissa wrote about her first kiss too so go check it. I know I’m dying to read it.
