Friday, September 14, 2012

Feel-Good Friday: Of Clothes Lines and Shooting Stars

Every romantic relationship has a first kiss, and each one should feel magical. My favorite first kiss occurred on a dark night that can only happen in the country with few lights to wash away the stars. I was in my room on the second floor of our old farmhouse when I heard a thunk against my window. And another.

I snuck down the stairs so as not to wake my dad and opened the front door to the slightly intoxicated and very hot high school boy I'd been flirting with for years. After much coaxing on his behalf, we settled in under the clothes line on the side of the house. As our conversation meandered to whatever high school kids talk about, he leaned into me, until his arm pressed against my shoulder.

An electric jolt shot through my body, but all I could think about was his hands. We'd driven to basketball games together, and always, I'd watched his hands on the steering wheel. They were strong hands even back then. Capable of shifting gears without so much as a hitch in his sports car. Perpetually tan to match his naturally dark complexion. Drumming on his dashboard in perfect time to the music. Any music, but mostly The Cars.

He grabbed my leg and pointed into the night withhis other hand. "Did you see that?"

I hadn't. The only thing I saw was him. The only thing I felt was the burn of my bare thigh under his fingers.

"It was a shooting star. I've never seen one before." His husky voice filled the summer evening with awe. It filled me with something else all together.

No sooner had I told him it was lucky to wish on a shooting star than another light streaked across the sky. With experienced ease, his lips found mine. He tasted of cheap beer--something I can't drink, or even smell, to this day without thinking of him.

As we broke apart, his friends--who I didn't know had tagged along--burst around the side of the house and caught the clothesline right across their necks. The force of it threw them backwards onto the ground. In an instant, our new-found passion erupted into rolling laughter.

While my last first kiss wasn't filled with fireworks, it was a moment never before experienced and one never to be duplicated. That's the magic of the first kiss. No matter how many times you smooch after that, you'll never, ever be able to replicate the experience.

Thank, God. Because if those yahoos were still hanging around our house at night, I'd be a little worried!

Do you remember your first-first kiss, or was there another one far more important along the way? If you could do it all over again, what would you change about the most important kiss your of your life? And if you've yet to experience this magical moment, what do you envision to be the perfect setting, the perfect guy, the perfect kiss?

Spill it all on First Kiss Friday.

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