The First Kiss

I imagine more than I'm willing to admit what it would be like the first time he and I kiss. There are multiple scenarios that play in my head that lead up to it - countless variations to the confession, the moment he tells me he loves me, the moment he and I finally tell each other our feelings. 

In some versions, I tell him to give me his hand, and I hold it firmly. There is something so simple yet sure about holding hands because I imagine our fingers intertwined and energy - pure energy - flowing between us. 

In other versions, the hug comes first. And even here there are variations. I could wrap my arms around his neck, standing on the tips of my toes to rest my chin on his shoulder. Or I could wrap my arms around his middle, burrying my face in his shirt, feeling our hearts racing as he folds me into his embrace as well.

The conversation that leads up to this, the setting, the time, the situation... Everything varies. There are so many ways this could happen.

But the kiss? That's the one thing I don't see too many variations in. 

It would start with a hesitation. Because as many times as I have imagined it, I know both he and I will be hesitant and shy to take this forward. We'll lean in close and pause just a breath away from each other. 

And when our lips meet, I will feel so scared that I won't feel anything at first. But then I'll put all my feelings into it - the countless years of waiting, of longing, everything exploding as I attempt to pour it all into this kiss. 

It deepens. He pours his feelings into it too. And in those brief moments our lips meet, an almost electric current flows between us. The world falls away as we drown in each other's arms. 

There is surety, there is hope, there is power, there is every reason to believe in this moment. There is love, there is longing, there is care, there is sweetness, there is trust, there are promises that are conveyed in these moments. Nothing else will matter when we finally kiss. Nothing.

He'd cup my face as my fingers cling to his shirt. Or he'd wrap his arms around me and pull me closer as I have his face cupped in my hands, or have my fingers tangled in his hair. 

That's how I imagine the first time we kiss. Isn't it funny how much I think about a moment I'm not even sure will happen? that I am still waiting for?

(Written March 15, 2018; updated April 14, 2020)