Monday, April 4, 2016
Topic du jour: Firsties
They really stick their claws in you, don't they? Perhaps they should.
I guess the topic now is first kiss and first love, and if they're separate, which mine are, discuss both.
I sort of assumed I'd be like Josie Grossie from Never Been Kissed, and have to back my way into it at the ripe old age of 30, I guess. I'm not sure why I thought this, but high school did nothing to soothe this fear, as I was the weird sheltered girl who came from the Christian school and as such had no idea if I could date someone without being a)cool b)experienced or c)any combination therein.
So it was a bit surprising when I not only found a guy who was my best friend and I had developed massive feelings for, but I also got a slightly sweaty note in gym asking for a date, from a tall, lanky guy who reminded me of Ashton Kutcher. I didn't know much about him, and on my way to English class I contemplated the possibilities.
Well, I accepted, and thus began a storybook high school romance, in which we rode in his classic car, I wore his letter jacket and class ring, we went to corporate picnics with his parents..we even accidentally decided on Secretary as a movie to watch with his stepmom without knowing what it was about. Our first kiss happened in my kitchen. Of all places, my kitchen. The house where my super strict parents lived. I don't even know why or how they weren't around. But I remember it was sunny on a weekend afternoon,and I knew ahead of time the first kiss was coming. So naturally, I was seven shades of nervous, wondering if I'd end up missing and propelling myself through the kitchen window into the front yard or biting his nose or some such other disaster. But it worked! He, much taller than I, leaned down and kissed me.
First love? Well, that had claws, and it's better left in the past. It crept around in the shadows and did unspeakable things and blamed me for them. I thought first love was *the* thing, but it turns out, later on, it's not. In fact, in my case, it's sweeter, longer lasting and more based in the simplicities of friendship than first love. It's the person you just can't lose, and these days, that love and that certainty that I won't lose him are starting to heal the wounds those claws first ripped open.