First Kisses

It's hard to clarify when their first kiss was.

It could have been the night when he was drunk for a reason she didn't remember, and she had given him a ride home. She walked him to the door, because she had a feeling he would have trouble fitting the key into the lock. After making sure the he could safely enter his house, she turned to go. But before she had taken a step, he grabbed her arm, leaned down and brushed his lips on her cheek, precariously close to her mouth, and murmured "Thanks. You're a lifesaver."

Or maybe it was the night she had gotten drunk, and in the euphoria of a good night, she had pressed her lips to his for a nanosecond, a small moment of celebration. She protested when later on he tried to argue that, logically, this was their first kiss, as that was the first time their lips had touched. She didn't like that he got to remember the moment with a sober mind while she didn't.

Perhaps it was that night when he had confessed everything; put it all on the line. He had kissed her, really kissed her, trying to show her how perfect things could be. That was the first time they both gave themselves completely to the kiss, the first time things really seemed consensual. It was also the first time a kiss had lasted longer than a half a second. But then she had turned him down, because she had already promised herself to someone else. Because of this, neither of them liked to acknowledge that moment.

Or was it when they were standing on her doorstep, when they were both finally free and everything felt so right? With the happiness that went along with the ending of a first date, it certainly seemed like a fist kiss. But they still didn't know for sure, because it turned into much more than a kiss, and instead seemed to be a declaration to love each other as well as they could. This completely contradicted the nature of first kisses, when in the norm they are simple acts of showing affection. But in both their minds, they turned it into something much more, something containing hopes and dreams and promises and the future.

No matter how much thought they put into the topic, they still can't classify their first kiss, because every one of their kisses feel like first kisses. All the thousands of kisses that followed those first few have all felt so exhilarating and new, and each contain so much emotion that they feel like first kisses. And in a sense, they are.

There was the first time they kissed in a public place, standing in an almost empty drug store.

The first time they kissed at work.

The first time they kissed after a fight.

The first time the kissed as an engaged couple.

The first time they kissed standing in a snowstorm.

The first time they kissed each other as husband and wife.

The first time they kissed as parents.

There were millions of first kisses, each precious and belonging only to them.

So they float in a state of unknowing, still not signifying a first kiss. But that's okay, because they decided long ago that they were going to just let one each be special and new. They are happy and content together, cherishing the life and kisses they share.