I grew up dreaming of finding the perfect love, Mr. Right, and a great romance that would sweep me off my feet. It didn’t happen.
As a single woman since my early 30’s, I have met a number of perfectly nice men. I’ve even been in a handful of relationships. I used to joke that I had a boyfriend every five years, whether or not I needed one – I was only half joking. I had married right out of high school, so one husband and about five boyfriends later, I had pretty much decided that a great love wasn’t going to happen for me.
And then I kissed Dave. I shouldn’t have, of course, we were just friends, but I did. Notice that I said I kissed him – make no mistake, I was the instigator of that kiss. It was supposed to be just a thank-you kiss, a thank-you for a nice day on the water, sailing.
I’ve always felt that kissing someone – properly, so to speak – should be reserved for someone special. I did kiss Dave properly, and I never do that. But this time I did.
It took him by surprise, as well it might. We had known each other for a very long time, true, but just as friends and not close ones, at that. For me, it was like an electric shock when my lips touched his. It was sudden and surprising, and it felt as though I had no bones. I would swear I felt that kiss all the way to my toes. A moment later he recovered and kissed me back. It was a great kiss!
That kiss and my reaction to it, and to him, took me completely by surprise. It was as if I had never been kissed before. And maybe I hadn’t, not like that. When it finally ended and he went back to his car and drove away (he had driven me home), I closed the door and leaned against it. I didn’t know where my reaction had come from – had I had a crush on him for almost 40 years? I realized that I probably had. There was nothing to do about it, though (another story!), but I went to sleep that night smiling. I had finally been kissed in the way I had dreamed of.
He gave me a gift that day, the gift of a perfect kiss. One that I can take out of memory and relive whenever I want to. A memory that reassures me that kissing someone can rock you to your core, a kiss to remember. I think it would embarrass him to know this, and so I won’t mention it to him. All the same, it was a gift and I will treasure it forever.
Thanks, Dave.
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