My first kiss wasn't a DJ Tanner moment where I waited for the right guy and the right timing. I can't even remember how I met the guy we kissed. I just know he qualified for the job by having long hair (in the day of hair metal bands, this was all it took) and lips. Really, that's all I was looking for.
I remember his name, but seeing that we are in the digital age, I won't say it here. I do have one picture of us together in school. In it, I have a really bad perm and crazy eyes. He's wearing a jean jacket and a dopey expression. I believe we are holding a stuffed animal of some sort. I don't know why.
The kiss happened on the bleachers of my high school. I do remember that. I'm assuming it happened during lunch since we had open lunch at the time.
I have to admit that I didn't like him that much. But I didn't not like him. I was just curious about what it was like to be kissed and he served that purpose. My best friend at the time tried to show me how to kiss (no, this isn't that kind of story...we didn't practice with each other), by having me kiss my arm.
It's not the same. And my arm still hasn't forgiven me for the violation of our trust.
When the kiss did happen, there wasn't fireworks or music. There wasn't even a cheesy 80's ballad in the background. It was weird. There was a lot of tongue. I didn't really feel anything, but self conscious.
My real first kiss with someone I actually loved came later. In the meantime though, I had been kissed and had started my high school career the way I wanted. I got the worse grades of my life my freshmen year, but I had experience kissing, so what did that matter? I was a mature woman-child who didn't need no stinkin' education!
I broke up with him a couple weeks later and never looked back. But he will always be a footnote in the story of my life. I think that's pretty cool. He probably wouldn't. And neither does my arm...