Hmmm… I’m assuming this means first real romantic kiss and not the little pecks we used to give each other when we were “just friends.” The funny thing is, as jaded as I can be, I think it was actually a kind of sweet moment.
When we had our little sit-down to discuss why, in his opinion, I shouldn’t marry Joe (my former fiance), we basically admitted being in love with one another, but because there were other people involved, we didn’t act on these feelings at all. Not until he tied up all the loose ends with his girlfriend (who he had broken up with that same day) and I had a chance to speak with Joe.
We didn’t see each other for a while following our discovery/declaration of love. I had to head back to California for work the next morning and he was moving out of the home he shared with his ex-girlfriend. I just remember thinking how stupid it was that we loved each other, but weren’t together. We hadn’t even kissed because I thought it would have been disrespectful to those we were involved with at the time. I did need to work, though, and he had things keeping him in New York. We talked on the phone almost every night, though.
One day, about three weeks later, my dad called to ask me to pick him up at the airport. He had been in New York on business, so I thought nothing too strange of it, other than to wonder why mom wasn’t picking him up. Still, I braved the trek to LAX, got there too early, lucked into a parking lot not too far from CTA, and waited by baggage claim. Turned out my dad pulled one over on me. He wasn’t the passenger I was picking up, as I discovered when I glanced at one of the arrival doors and saw JP.
It was like a scene from one of those chick flicks I so loathe watching. He smiled at me. I stared at him with my mouth agape looking like a carp. I walked towards him, he walked towards me (we weren’t that far apart, actually, but the scene would probably be done in slo-mo with a bad soundtrack, making it seem like we were on opposite sides of the terminal). We ended up face to face. He looked at me and smiled again. We both quite eloquently said hello, then it happened. He tilted my chin up, our eyes locked, and our lips met. There were no sparks or fireworks. There was no “Hallelujah Chorus.” It didn’t feel like something new and exciting. It felt like home. It felt like it had always been and always would be. He wrapped me in his arms and I was where I belonged. I was where I always should have been. There should have been no other men in my life but this man and I knew there would be no man in my life but him from that moment forward. Our first kiss tasted like honey, peppermint, and promises that we wouldn’t break. Our first kiss tasted like love.