I grew up with a boy who hit me because he liked me, pressured me because he wanted me, then left me because he loved me. An innocent friendship bloomed into an unhealthy romance that left me shaken and stirred and very unsure of myself. Of all the memories I choose to keep, there is a moment on a ball field, existing amidst thunder, where inside clinging, rain-drenched clothes, I received The Kiss. The first and last kiss I was ever lost in. The kiss that plucked heartstrings and flipped lungs. The kiss that wasn’t hello or goodbye or I’m sorry or I tried. The kiss that just was, shared in a rural town with no one around or everyone near, but simply unnoticed. That kiss. Time-locked. Memory stock.
I never want to see that boy again, but I’ll keep the kiss, thank you very much.