I can remember the excitement I felt the first time I ever held hands.  It didn’t happen all at once we sort of sat for hours with our hands about as near to each other as one can get without touching.  I’ll have to say that the moments before were the best part. Once our hands touched it was sort of like a fireworks show.  We just sort of ignited with one big bang without creating anything.  Then the sky went dark and the show was over with nothing but smoke and embers left to fall.

I can remember my first kiss.  I was vacationing with my parents at the beach when I saw him.  He was mysteriously handsome and I was in love.  He had shaggy hair and the darkest eyes peeking through bangs that curled over his eyelids a bit too far for my liking.  This was probably due to an old childhood fear instilled into me by my grandmother.  She was forever telling me how if I let my hair hang down in my eyes that I would go cross-eyed.  Amazing how I feared that but somehow the thought that he might be optically disfigured later in life  didn’t seem to matter in the moment.  The kiss well I remember it but neither of us were really any good at it.

I remember with some sense of remorse the first time I actually “car-dated”.  Getting all dressed up and anticipating the event almost took my breath away.  I actually thought I might faint when the door bell rang and it was finally time.  He walked in and he was wearing a red and white flannel checkered shirt.  My mom looked at me and whispered, “Is he wearing a table-cloth?”  Somehow that comment just sort of quenched the flames of passion that night.

Now that I’ve thought about all that I sure do remember now and appreciate that I’m married.

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