I’m loving the ideas you guys are coming up with and Michelle’s question about my first kiss ever, and then my first kiss with Michael seems like a fun place to start. But please keep giving suggestions on the last post. The more material, the better!

The First Kiss Ever

I was in eight grade. His name was Peter. Actually, my best friend liked him in seventh grade (scandal!) and I passed him notes for her, including one that I wrote for her because she didn’t know what to say. They never worked out and by eighth grade she had moved on to another conquest.

I don’t remember how we started dating–and I use that word lightly because come on, it was like, sitting together at lunch and holding hands in the hall–but it lasted four whole months until he broke up with me at the eight grade picnic. Whatever, I digress.

About a month into dating we were doing our usual end-of-day walk to the buses when he slowed down by an exit. My heart started racing. I was going to get my first kiss, I just knew it! I leaned in and closed my eyes, expecting a gentle kiss on the lips…and got a big wet tongue in my mouth. Ah!

Not wanting to be uncool, I kept kissing…until I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the vice principal, threatening detention if we didn’t cut it out immediately. (Side note: remember all the kissing that went on in the halls in middle and high school? Who did we think we were?) I got so freaked out about getting in trouble that I wouldn’t kiss him again for almost a week. Perhaps this is why he dumped me.

The First Kiss With Michael

It was early April of my freshman year and we had been seeing each other on and off for about three weeks. He told me to dress warmly for our date and I bundled up in my college sweatshirt. We arrived at a beautiful state park with giant rocks overlooking the ocean. We walked around for awhile, but the wind was cold, so we huddled down in the crook of one and snuggled together. We talked and laughed and then just stopped. Staring into each other’s eyes I decided I would kiss him. Apparently he had the same idea, because we leaned towards each other at the same time.

The kiss was wonderful. There was something magical about the waves crashing, the wind blowing and being wrapped up in his arms. We kissed for awhile longer, pulling back every now and then to look at each other and smile. Just as I was about to suggest we get out of the cold, he exclaimed, “let’s go to dinner!”

I laughed, explaining I didn’t bring any money, but he insisted he was taking me out. So we went–to TGI Friday’s. Not the most romantic setting, but I was smitten and it didn’t matter. He drove me back to campus hours later and kissed me goodbye. I floated back to my dorm, only to be met by a “where were you?” from my worried friends, which quickly changed to, “Awwww!” when I told them about the kiss.

He gave me millions of butterflies that day and he still does.

Oh, and those rocks? That’s where he proposed five and a half years later.

Advertisements