Prompt: Where was your first kiss?
The swings.The playground. Down the street from her house.
13 years old and trying to talk to girls is all of the world's awkwardness wrapped into one unkempt prepubescent body.
That statement probably embodies the sentiment in many first kisses. Luckily, I shared mine with a girl I'd known for years. We were good enough friends and some schoolyard chatter had uncovered that there might be some grade school crush brewing beneath the surface.
Late on an after school afternoon, I remember going to her house for one reason or another with a few more of my classmates or friends or what-have-you. We had managed to find ourselves alone on the swing set down the street from her house. I can't remember how or why, I just knew that something was going to happen at this point.
I knew it would happen tonight. I had built up in my mind for weeks. Imagined day after day what I would think and feel at those very moments when my lips would mesh with another pair. It had to be magical right? My first kiss...
She leaned in, as if to beckon me forward so that she could whisper something in my ear. As agreeable as a I was at this age (and especially around her), I did exactly that. In one swift move she took one hand to my face and turned it towards hers while simultaneously planting her lips on mine.
Needless to say, I don't think it turned out quite as she had planned. As she moved into the kiss, I retreated for a brief moment before succumbing and actually kissing her back. If I had known that kissing was this clumsy, uneasy, mess of saliva and bumping foreheads, I may have put it off a bit longer.
The end of this graceless and inept attempt of juvenile romance came when I leaned a bit to far and fell clear off the swings and into the mulch and dirt below. I looked up at her with a curious smile as she looked coyly away from me. We both got up and crept quietly back to her house before more awkwardness ensued. I remember thinking:"This was a practice run. My next kiss is going to be great..."