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First Kiss

By Shannon Wand

Most people remember their first kiss. Ah, the anticipation, the worry, the thrill. The waiting is the best part, because let's face it, at that age we aren't experts on what to do when our lips meet another’s. Never mind when a tongue gets involved. Add to that rebelliousness, raging hormones and a general cluelessness and you have yourself a potent mix. It's a nerve wracking yet wonderful experience. My first kiss was sweet and the boy was cute. As far as first's go it was a great one. It was what followed that almost led me to a kissless existence.

My second, far less sweet, kiss came from a boy named Danny. In grade six he asked me out. I said yes not knowing what was in store for me. He held my hand and that was fine but then he leaned in and put his tongue into my mouth. Just like that. No smooching. No working up to it. He put his extraordinarily long tongue into my mouth and began flapping it around like a fish out of water. I had no idea what to do but I knew that I didn't want to do that with him anymore. I pulled back and told him that I had a cold and didn't want him to catch it. I left his house and never saw him again. Technically we are still dating.

If you believe what scientists have to say then you would agree that pheromones are what attract us to one another. Apparently, we smell each others pheromones, much like animals, and instinctively are driven to make-out, grope and eventually buy large quantities of diapers or some such thing. After we decide that we like each other’s smells we usually kiss and when we do a chemical called Sebum is released. The excess liquid involved smears the Sebum around and that is supposed to be a good thing. If we like each others Sebum then that seals the deal and we mate for life. It's not the most romantic notion. I don't think that Shakespeare would have approved.

The next boy that I let kiss me wasn't exactly a professional either. I quite liked Jack, though. He wore a jean jacket and his feathery bangs covered his left eye. I thought that he was just the dreamiest. We hung out together a lot and the general consensus was that we should be a couple so in true high school romance we became one. We smiled and shuffled our feet often and then finally he went in for the kill. I remember looking at his tonsils as his head came towards me. It was like some 3-D dentist movie. I never knew that someone’s mouth could open up that wide. He engulphed my entire head with his mouth. His tongue was in my nose. Once again, I was left not knowing what I should do. Why would he want to make-out with my head? Were there no boundaries that one should respect? What, at this point, do I do with my tongue? It ended quickly. I did not like Jacks Sebum.

Normally we try things a few times and if we aren't satisfied we move on to something else. Oddly, with kissing we just move on to someone else. We never give up on the idea that kissing will somehow make music that only the kissers can hear. Personally, I blame romance movies but that's another story. I digress. I tried liver once and hated it. I haven't eaten it since but the tongue diver and face licker didn't deter me from kissing again. Maybe it’s that our knees do get a little weak or that the anticipation of grand love takes over and we are just helpless victims of romance. Perhaps there is a void within us that only exchanging spit can fill. I really don't know.

My first kiss was in (now, don't judge me) pre-school. I don't remember his name but I like to think it was either Dave or Kevin. He had brown hair and blue eyes. I realize that a romance at such an age is difficult to imagine but that doesn't mean it didn’t happen. Every day I would wait for him at the top of the stairs. I think that he may have been late a few times and didn't apologize but I also think that I didn't know how to tell time so it was okay. When he reached the top of the stairs he would kiss my forehead and then we would go into the classroom. We wouldn't speak to each other for the rest of the day. Perhaps it was a lack of communication or, maybe, just maybe we were so secure in our love that we didn't need mundane conversation. I was too busy playing to worry.

That's just how powerful a first kiss can be. It's been over twenty years and here I am writing about my pre-school smooch fest with maybe-named-Dave-or-Kevin. Whether it was a good experience or not its fun to look back on and either sigh or giggle or in some cases, vigorously shower. There are lots of things that we put into our memory boxes that never get brought out of storage and so it should be. Such as the time in grade three that I spent a whole gym class running around with my halter top around my waist. Ugh. That first kiss though, now that's worth thinking about every once in a while.

 
 

 

 

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