"I feel, when I kiss you, how recklessly my soul leans forward at my lips, as if to step across." - Plato, 4th Century BCE
My hand brushed her cheek lightly, yet firmly. I remember catching her somewhat off-guard, but not so much that anyone else would have noticed. My other hand was on her shoulder, drawing her closer and sliding back to encircle her.
There was something about that day in May, too. It was bright and warm, and both of us were far from our troubles. Not that we would have noticed, had they been closer: those troubles could not possibly have crossed our minds at that time.
I remember thinking, "I wonder if someone will see, if they might tell someone. I wonder if someone we know will spread the word." And then I remember thinking, "I don't care."
And then our lips touched, and I drew her in closer. Her new hat brushed my ear roughly, and I pulled her tighter. I felt a grin that rose from deep within me come to the surface, that burst out of me and broke the kiss, and I stood there looking into her eyes, grinning, and then laughing.
It wasn't our first kiss, and it would not be our last, but it was a kiss I will always remember. I was thinking about it as I drove home today, as I sometimes do. The thought is always out of the blue, always at an odd time.
But it is, and always will be, with me.