The First Kiss

You only get this once with each person you kiss. That first kiss is so important. You either make or break it.

Steve had loved me since high school. He always looked at me adoringly. He was always there to steady me, to pick something up if I dropped it, to keep me focused in the classroom when my wandering thoughts drifted off to dreamy places.

But there was another. There was only one guy I saw when I closed my eyes at night. And it just happened to be a guy who did not care about me at all. And so my four years of high school came and went. And I ran home from graduation ceremonies, flung myself across my bed in my embroidered silk gown and cried tears of absolute despair, achieving a beautiful, numb state of delirium. It felt like the end of my life. It might as well have been. I wouldn't see my love again.

Okay, so not my love, but the guy I wanted so badly for my own.

I drove up to college in the mountains; not too far from home, but far enough away to avoid reminders of what could never be. Steve remained a constant in my life. He was always there. Not too much so, as I always kept him right where I wanted him - there if I needed a crutch - in the background if I needed to dream about my ridiculous high school crush.

After one year of wasting my parents' money and music scholarship money partying from 2 AM to whenever I passed out, with boys who cared nothing for my academia or well being, I was pulled from the wreckage by my own personal "Jaws of Life" - my parents.

And so I returned home and faced the inevitable - further captivity, different institution.

In a desperate attempt to escape the nightmare of working toward a goal that was not my own, I recklessly surrendered my soul to the first bidder.

And suffered the wretched consequences.

I was single again.

The years passed and I reluctantly trudged off to singles dance after singles dance, bestowing my agency upon yet another. My friend at the time; my one friend who I clung to so desperately for life support became my puppet master. I stood off to the side when she told me to, I obediently contorted my body to create the illusion of acceptable dance moves when she commanded me to, and I accepted dance invitations at her nod of approval.

It was during one such episode of convulsing to an overplayed 80s tune by The Cure that I saw him. It was as if the crowd parted and there he stood in all his glory. A warmth. A comfortable memory from my past. A light in my gloomy existence. And for a brief moment time stood still. His eyes widened in surprise. His mouth curled up at the edges. A slow, weary smile spread across my haggard face. My shoulders slumped in relief. He reached his hands out to me. I reached my hands out to him.

"Kristin", he called out.

"Steve", I replied.

"You look great!" He exclaimed. "How are you?"

"I'm good", I sighed. "How are you?" I could feel the overwhelming emotion building inside of me. My tear ducts burning, in preparation for the tears of joy about to spew forth.

"NOPE! Not gonna' happen!" I felt a pinch on my right arm. I snapped out of my dream and shot my glance toward the perpetrator. My friend spun me around instantly, my head spinning ahead of me. I lost my balance and began to stumble. I felt the cold, hard knuckles pushing me through the sea of chaos. "Let's get out of here NOW" she spit in disgust.

"But", I attempted to fight back, my mind weakened by its year-long voluntary catatonic state.

"No. Absolutely not. I forbid it", came the reply from my self-appointed master.

I glanced over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of Steve, the freshly spattered hurt dousing the glow of his face. My heart ached. The electrical impulse sent a shock wave to my brain and I instantly awakened from the fog. I had to escape this self-induced captivity.

And so eventually I did break the bonds.

A few months passed and I decided to celebrate my newly acquired freedom by going out on the town. I stopped by a bank ATM, turned my car off and ran up to the machine. My money shot out, I grabbed it, spun around and walked briskly back to my car, stuffing my money into my wallet, not watching my step. I misjudged the step down onto the asphalt and stumbled forward. But my fall was abruptly halted by a pair of firm hands. I gasped and slowly followed the button of the polo shirt up along the neck of its inhabitant, and eventually into the eyes of my rescuer.

There were no words. I gazed into his eyes, awestruck. They twinkled as he smiled.

"Hey there."The soft spoken words enveloped me like a cozy blanket.

"Steve", I sighed. "Hi".

"Hey", he whispered back. "You okay?"

"Uh huh", I managed, in a daze.

I noticed the lines of his lips slowly turning upward. I mimicked his response and gazed into his eyes again, this time taking note of the very visible scars from wounds I had personally inflicted. They dulled the twinkle of his eyes. I pulled away and straightened up, clearing my throat.

"Well it's good to see you", I wearily replied, continuing to slowly back away. I didn't deserve him. I had hurt him. He had always been there for me and I had spit upon it and kicked it around.

The smile slowly faded from Steve's face. "All right. Well, good to see you too."

I cast my eyes to the ground and scurried to my car.

"Kristin", I heard Steve call out to me. I hesitated, then looked up to see him walking toward my car.

"Hey", I sighed.

"Hey" he responded and then hesitated. We gazed into each others eyes, the pain now evident in both pairs. "So, I was wondering if I could....call you sometime".

I gasped, not realizing I had been holding my breath in anticipation, clinging to every word. I sighed in relief and laughed nervously. "Of course", I replied with a weary smile, studying his eyes. He smiled in response, the glow returning to his face. My heart burned and I shuddered in the cold.

"It's cold", Steve chuckled. "I should let you go so you can get warm".

"Yeah. Okay", I replied, returning to my state of blissful delirium.

The next night he called. My heart beating wildly in my chest as I read his name across the caller ID. Steve took me out the next night for dinner and a movie.

And then came that moment. That moment you face at the end of every first date. The moment mostly dreaded. But in this instant, it was welcomed. He gently took my cold hand in his. The warmth touched my palm, seeped in through my skin, and shot up through my veins into my heart, setting the beat off at a furious pace. I tried to mask my body's responses, but failed miserably. He didn't seem to take notice. I felt the gentle squeeze of his warm hand enveloping mine, his thumb caressing the dorsal side. I bit my lip and looked away, embarrassed by my reaction. My panting became more evident now, my heart burning hotter.

We reached my doorstep and we turned to face each other, smiling, and occasionally laughing nervously. I looked away.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing", I responded, my face burning. I could feel my palms beginning to sweat. I glanced into his eyes and then immediately toward the ground, like a young girl on her first date, anticipating that first kiss. But this was my first kiss - with Steve.

I felt his forehead touch against mine and listened as our nervous laughter swirled about our heads. My breathing was shallow and ragged. His nose touched against the side of mine. I could feel his warm, sweet breath on my face. I closed my eyes and drew in a long breath, sucking the cold night air into my throat and then my lungs. And then came the burn. His soft, full lips so hot against my cold. Our lips held their position a moment and then closed in on each other. My heart burned so hot, I thought it would burst.

His warm, strong hands began to caress my neck. I followed his lead, grabbing at his neck, holding him captive. I never wanted this moment to end.

But eventually our lips needed a break and so he pulled me in closer, wrapping his arms around me, as I nuzzled my face into his warm neck and sighed in contentment. I gently pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes. He responded by kissing the top of my forehead and nuzzling his nose against it.

"You wanna' come in?" I invited, hopeful.

I could feel him drawing in a long deep breath and holding it, most likely contemplating his answer. He eventually blew it out in a long sigh and squeezed me tighter. "I shouldn't", he whispered in reply.

I swallowed the disappointment down and pursed my lips together in a grimace. "Okay", I said, nodding.

"Thank you for tonight", he said, gazing lovingly into my eyes. I sighed and grimaced, gazing immediately upon the ground again, as I felt the burn returning to my cheeks.

And so he squeezed me one last time and said goodnight.

But the relationship borne of this event came to a screeching halt when Steve had to take work out of town for several months and my immature, undeserving soul eventually latched onto another, once again rejecting his offer of love like a spoiled, unappreciative little brat.

I don't know what ever became of him. His first and last name happen to be in the Top Ten List of Most Common Names in the United States. Any searches for him later on in my single life proved futile. I can only hope he found someone deserving and accepting of the gift he had to offer.