It took me back, way back. To 8th grade.
His name was Ben and he was so cute. We had seventh period together and flirted like mad but neither of us ever had the guts to pull the trigger.
One day as I sat at home
As luck would have it , I didn't need the protection. He ended the story with the man professing his love to the woman and the P.S. and I quote " are you going to the 8th grade dance if this means what I think it means then HOT DAMN"
I was over the moon. In seventh period , after exchanging several winks and goo goo eyes we made arrangements to walk home together.
My pulse quickened and my pupils turned to hearts as I daydreamed that whole class away.
Before I knew it it was time to go.
And it was everything I anticipated. Holding Ben's hand was magical. I felt on top of the world. But then we'd gotten to his house too quickly. I didn't want the afternoon to end. So we decided to walk to my house.
Once at my house I introduced him to my stepmother and showed him around and then he told me he needed to get back home.
It was at that moment that I officially got nervous. I knew there was going to be a kiss. I knew other people in my class that had actually french kissed before. But I wasn't one of them.
Ben was my first "real boyfriend" and holding hands that day was as far as I had gotten. Hell, I was only 12 years old (for those of you doing the math, I started kindergarten at age 4).
Sweating, I walked him out and headed down the sidewalk.
I told him I'd walk him halfway, in an effort to stall.
We took a shortcut he knew and we were behind several houses when I knew I couldn't stall any longer.
As we said our goodbyes I secretly wondered if I could get away with a peck. I quickly found out that wasn't to be.
He leaned in and put his arms around me. I closed my eyes and put my arms around him. Our lips touched. Then, there it was. His tongue poking at my lips.
I had less than a second to decide my course of action. I wasn't completely stupid. I'd watched R movies. I figured the best thing to do was open my mouth.
Only I didn't know what to do with my tongue.
So I clumsily circled his tongue, and felt his drool down the side of my mouth.
Then it was over.
And I was glad.
I opened my eyes and smiled at him.
We hugged and then went our seperate ways. Once I was sure he was gone I wiped the side of my mouth and ran. I don't know why I ran at that moment. It just felt like the right thing to do.
When I got home I told my twin sister what I'd just done and how I felt about it. We laughed and laughed.
Our relationship ended with a tragic breakup a few days later at the 8th grade dance. The break-up had nothing to do with the kiss and my desire to never do it again. It had more to do with peer pressure. And the fact that I was beginning to explore the new wave lifestyle and Ben was a jock. I let my friends convince me he wasn't the one.
What can I say I was 12.
And that my friends, is the story of my first kiss.
Epilogue: In Ben's defense, I don't think he was a bad kisser. We were kids. Very inexperienced kids. Freshman year, he begin dating a Sophomore field hockey player. They dated all throughout high school and college and are now married with children. As for Ben and I. We're friends now. On Facebook.