My first kiss… it was…
My first kiss… it was two days ago. I’m fourteen, a scout, and I still can’t really believe it happened.
I read these, and it struck me, not all of them were pleasant. Not all of them – or even most of them – were what you wished for. Mine was. It was sweet.
I met him about 11 weeks ago. I’m a scout, as I said, and I was going at this scout-course for patrol-leaders. To teach us how it was done. He was scout from somewhere else.
We shared the same interests, so naturally we talked. HTML and role-playing and stuff. Fantasy. In the wind shelter, I lay beside him. In Sweden that’s no big deal – girls and boys live in the same wind shelters, and you lie beside the person you intend to talk to.
So we worked, and dragged around firewood, and got mud all over ourselves. In the morning we smiled at each other. It felt good. We didn’t talk much.
A week later, there was the second part of the course. This time inside, with a lot of theoretical things. Me and Joel and two other guys occupied the two bunk beds facing each other. I was still talking to Joel, mostly, so when we had our pauses I would sit in his bed and talk to him. Hard to really talk through the bunk.
After a while, since we’re scouts and all, I came to sit very close to him, leaning on him as he lay down. (he’s too lazy to sit up). Ok, so I wasn’t really sitting. But anyway.
The two other guys, who was in our patrol and friends of ours, of course made some rough jokes about it, but we had expected no less. It stayed at that. In the scouts, it doesn’t necessarily have to mean anything. Although I felt neither Joel nor me was the kind who did that if it meant nothing. So we kept in touch over the internet.
Ten weeks later, I arranged a reunion hike for my patrol. Hike, as in a scout-gathering over at least one night, not necessarily walking or anything. We stayed inside and watched movies through the night. That was the whole point to it. It was me, Joel, and two other people.
I of course sat down beside Joel in the corner. At first we just sat there, our arms touched, but nothing more. After a movie or two, my head had sort of slid down to rest on his shoulder. I will not deny that when he leaned his head against mine in response, I felt a thrill of tension and warmth inside me.
After a while, our hands touched accidentally ever so lightly. We of course made more of that. I didn’t realize it, but he probably felt the same tension I felt. So we played with each others hands, stroking, squeezing, just holding. It was so sweet – you have to remember that I had not been through this before.
Somewhere into the seventh movie or so, I just felt like raising my hand and started playing with his hair. His curly dark hair. What I didn’t expect, was that he in response would raise his and stroke my cheek and chin, and play with my ear lobe. It was a shock. But a pleasant one.
The only thing that bothered me was whether the others was watching us or not. I knew they had glanced at us from time to time – sheesh, we were almost as interesting as the movie. And they didn’t see what went on under the blanket, they only saw our heads.
Then it happened. I didn’t recognize it at first. He turned my face against his with that hand on my cheek. I felt his nose against mine… then, because I didn’t answer to his moves, the moment was over. I sat, and didn’t think of the movie, as he continued to stroke my chin. It wasn’t a rejection, it was just hesitation from both sides. The kiss didn’t come suddenly, oh no.
I wondered whether I was ready for my first kiss or not. It was a silly question, and I don’t know where I got it from – it was the guy I wanted, it was the ideal moment, it was dark and cozy and warm, and we were so close…
And then he turned my head again. I don’t know whether it was him or me who started that movement, but it really didn’t matter. I poured myself out to him, our noses rubbed, we leaned our heads together, and we kissed.
It was just as I wanted it to be. It wasn’t any tongue or anything – sheesh, it’s my first kiss after all – but it wasn’t just a brief touch either. It felt like it looks on TV, except we weren’t drooling all over each others faces. It was gentle. Sweet. It felt right.
That was all that happened. That was all that mattered. We still lay curled up together, stroking each others hands, leaning our heads on each other. But so far, the sweetest moment in my life was five minutes to 8, Swedish winter time, the 9th of February 2005.
My first kiss was everything you’d want a first kiss to be.