I'll never forget my first kiss.
It was Christmas Day and we'd had a great food and scrabble-filled time as usual. My mom's best friend aka my godmother had come and brought her children and a relative's kid, Joseph, who was visiting from Israel. He was older than me by a few years, and had the blondest hair and bluest eyes I'd ever seen. He looked like a model. To me, anyway. (Years later my sister told me he was not as smoking hot as I'd thought.)
At the end of the day, as was our custom, we went to the movies while the adults stayed back, as happy to get rid of us for a few hours as we were to leave. We chose a newly released action movie that year, but the show never mattered.
Joseph flirted with me the entire movie. I had no idea how to filrt back, but my heart raced with his interest. At some point, he leaned over the arm of the seats and kissed my cheek. When I turned to look at him, he touched his lips to mine and then he REALLY kissed me.
I remember the two of us levitating above our seats, oblivious to the screen and anyone else in the room. We kissed until the movie ended and we floated down to our seats.
He went back to Israel and I never saw him again. We wrote for a little while but as these things do, it faded after a while. But he will always be the star in one of my favorite memories, and the person who taught me how to kiss.
I hope you remember yours as vividly. I'd love to hear all about it. I'll add responses to my next email (Unless you'd rather I didn't add yours.)
Happy 2025. May we all collect new heart-fluttering memories. In a good way, of course.
