Something personal
I distinctly remember my first kiss… it was not what I expected; it didn’t happen as the so many books I read told. It was hard, a teeth to teeth contact, born from inexperienced lovers, those who had yet to master the boundaries of lips and the softness of skin. Time didn’t stop, the Earth kept on moving and yet… yet for those two figures standing there it did, an everlasting moment, preserved in memory.
It was our first date and we spent it walking around the city, talking, laughing and holding hands shyly. We weren’t pressed, we weren’t in a hurry, so we allowed the night to came upon us on a recently built bridge. The scene was magnificent, glass and steel, light everywhere and upon us a starry night with a full moon.
So, we were on the bridge, my arms around her waist to keep her warm from the winter wind and I, stupid me, was babbling about the beauty of the light of the stars and the dew on the grass when, while still clutching her, she turned, looked me in the eyes and kissed me. She was smaller than me and had to stand on tiptoe. The whole situation was classic, a cliché, and it was beautiful. Her lips burned, a brief contact in a cold night that kept me warm just my thinking of it ; then she rested her head on my chest and after a moment said in a soft voice: “your heart beats really fast, I like it”.
We kissed many times after that, and I have kissed other women too after her, but that first kiss was really special indeed. It was not only my first kiss, but hers too. It was, too, the night of St. Valentine’s Day. How more special could it be? The very first kiss of two young lovers on St Valentine’s Day… sometimes, even now, after so many years, the mere thought of it makes me shiver. But it all seems old now, like I’ve lived a hundred lives. And I’ve changed, but I’m happy with the thought that somewhere, deep inside me, there’s still a place unchanged, untainted, still naïve.
I believe the world could be a better place if every men, every women could remember his first kiss…
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