ghost riders of my heart...

it was 18 years ago this weekend that I had my first kiss.

Well, not my first kiss per se - but my first REAL kiss - if you understand what I mean by that.

The first kiss that meant something. The first kiss that made me shiver and tremble and feel butterflies.

I'd had a kiss or two before, but they were sloppy, emotionless events that left me wondering is that it?

But this kiss. This kiss when I was 15 years old....that kiss made me realize what it was all about.

I was a freshman in high school, it was spring and he was incredibly cute and sweet and charasmatic.

And he liked me.

He liked me.

And that was all it took. I was unhappy otherwise. Unhappy at school. Unhappy at home. I felt alone. I felt unwanted. I felt unsure about everything. I was always in trouble. I was always looking for trouble.

So we cut class one morning and went and smoked pot at Benji's house and got high and kissed and kissed and kissed.

And then we tried to go back to school but the truency officer saw us trudging through the trees behind the baseball diamond and we tried to turn and go back the other way but we were already busted.

Busted. Busted. Busted.

And we sat in the office waiting for the principal.

And the principal, who was supposed to call my mother the next time I cut class, let us go back to class but I wasn't sure if he'd call my mother anyway so I grabbed the boy's hand on the way out of the office and whispered let's go.

And we were gone. In the blink of an eye we were downtown, sitting by the fountain, soaking up the sun and kissing and feeling free.

And I told him I couldn't go back home that night. I'd be in too much trouble. So it was still early afternoon and we took the bus back to my house and he waited outside while I grabbed some money and clothes from my bedroom.

And didn't leave a note for my mother.

And then, in another flash, we were back downtown at Punk Rock Chuck's house. Drinking Diet Rite cola and watching music videos and eating macaroni and cheese from a box.

There's not much else I remember from that night - nothing much but lying in Punk Rock Chuck's bed (he was on the couch with his girfriend). Lying in bed with the boy and kissing and kissing and kissing as a cool breeze drifted through the open window, causing the curtains to flutter nd sway.

The boy told me that he loved me and I felt my heart swell and almost burst.

The next afternoon though, my mother found us down at the the runaway/homeless feed dinner. I saw her walking toward me and I got up without saying a word - only looking back at the boy for one final second - and followed her to the car.

That night he went up north with Punk Rock Chuck to the small college town and hooked up with an 18-year-old girl.

I was grounded for a month and never saw him again.

I was 15 and stupid. He was 15 and sweet and cute and charasmatic and an incredible jerk.

But it was still a great kiss. A wonderful kiss. The kiss to launch all kisses.

12:25 pm - 05.26.03

sounds: Ed Harcourt
words: Fast F00D Nation
i am: a wee bit nostalgic


previously on ... - next time on ...

money can't buy happiness but it does buy small pieces of of serenity - 15.07.12 - 4:29 pm

sh)t's about to get real, y'all - 31.05.12 - 9:46 am

why the hell not? - 29.04.12 - 8:38 pm

Hear that lonesome whistle blow... - 02.04.12 - 5:18 pm

a faith in something I can't see - 30.03.12 - 3:33 pm

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