<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d7917459\x26blogName\x3dfirstkissproject\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://firstkissproject.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://firstkissproject.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d4021338945997668753', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

« Home | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next »

Joanna Lord

My first kiss.
Over a decade ago.
It felt like yesterday.

He was my first boyfriend, my first phone call, my first dance.
He was beautiful, darker skin, shaggy hair, snowboarder style.

I was petite, innocent, trying to be older than I was.
I was nervous, anxious, “in love” with this boy.

We were at the movies, left section, up the middle, a few seats in.
We were holding hands, touching each other softly, shaking.

The movie ended. I didn’t stand up. He leaned over.
Soft, warm, real. His lips kissed me with his hand upon my left cheek.

Imagine a boy with potential, with ambition, with dreams.
Imagine me in awe of his adventurous nature.

In the years to follow our first kiss we had many other firsts’.
We touched, laughed, skipped school, chased dreams—together.

He died 6 years ago. My first boyfriend, my first phone call, my first dance.
My first kiss. I still think of that kiss. I have found no kiss to match that moment.

A moment where a boy made a woman out of a girl.
A moment where I gave my innocence to a worthy man…

MyJason John.
Over a decade ago.
It felt like yesterday.

Please keep entries to 500 words or fewer when possible. Your email address, and any other identifying information you choose, will be kept private. By submitting your story, you grant the First Kiss Project copyright and publicity rights. If you do not wish to grant the First Kiss Project these rights, it is suggested that you do not submit to this website. The First Kiss Project is all about sharing, but please don't steal these stories or use them as your own. Thanks.