A Good Kiss

I think I am a very private person. Unless you are a good friend. Then maybe not so much. But as I've been thinking about things to write, I realize that a lot of what comes to mind is what is immediate. And lately, my blog entries have been a lot about faith and fear and courage. They've been a lot about moving and trying to find work and getting a boyfriend. They've been angsty and moody and then hopeful and grateful. And of course it is natural to write about the now. Because how can you not? The now is just so...so present. So in your face.

I try to look to other sources for inspiration, but I'm finding that a lot of bloggers do the same thing, and I can't write about someone else's now because I know nothing about it. You know?

And then I remembered something. I have this really rich life. And I have some seriously good stories to tell. Like the old man in Barnes and Noble. I also remember once, when I was in college, a friend shared a really great piece from one of her writing professors about this kiss. And man was it so funny and real and poignant. Moments like that are, oh I don't know, enjoyable to write about because they carry emotion. And so I am going to share a story that I've kept pretty private over the years. And keep in mind that because I am private, this is sort of hard to write.

It is a story about a kiss.

I remember it was a really chilly night in Switzerland. Yes, I was in Switzerland. Lucern, to be precise. Oh and don't you just know that Lucern is such a pretty little city set in the tippy top of the Alps on this very beautiful blue lake? Well it is. Anyway, it was late March and it was a really chilly night. Kate, Read and I had made a yummy curry dinner, but it was too cold out to wander, so we went looking for fellow back-packers in our perfect little hostel. And oh how I could tell you all the good things about hosteling throughout Europe, particularly in places like Lucern where the hostels are pristine...much like the surrounding country side. But this is a story about a kiss.

And so we found some fellow back-packers. And we set to chatting with these boys. Read found himself a nice gal to chat with, so Kate and I were free. I could also tell you about how funny these boys were. So so very funny. We heard stories about girl friends falling out of bunk beds and stories about being on Who Wants to be a Millionaire with Regis Philbin himself. It's true. And then we played a funny card game and foosball, and I am telling you that I laughed and laughed that night. But this story isn't about funny anecdotes and ridiculous games. Remember, it is about a kiss.

So then Wil, one of those boys, he tells me he wants to go for a walk. This is where the chilly part comes in. The four of us walk outside. Kate and Andy head off in one direction, and Wil deliberately heads off in the other. So I follow him because Kate and Andy seem long gone. But I'm wearing fleece pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. And these flip-flops. Don't forget the flip-flops. So I tell Wil that I want to head back inside because I'm cold, obviously. And I will never forget the way he smiled at me, mischievous and handsome. Oh he was handsome, with his chesnut brown hair sort of just flopping carelessly over his eyes. He didn't say anything, but he pulled that navy blue J. Crew roll neck sweater up over his head and then back down over mine.

I just smiled. The boy wanted to go for a walk, and I cannot say I didn't want to go with him. So there we were, chatting and walking down to the lake, right up to the water's edge. If I'm quiet, I can still hear the way the water lapped, the breeze pushing it softly against the shore. I can still see the lights of the mansions in the distance, somewhere on another shore, across the lake. I can still see the way the sidewalk glistened under the street lamps after a long day of rain. The air was so clean and fresh. And I was only twenty-four.

I remember that we stopped, and we looked out over that lake, and I thought it was so beautiful, and I wanted to say something, anything, because I wasn't sure what he would do. I opened my mouth to speak, and I felt his hand on my neck. It was warm and gentle, but quick...so quick and sudden that I stopped mid-sentence because his lips were on my lips. My heart sort of took off. My hands were on his arms, and then his hands were cradling my face. The breeze kept moving that water, and that was all I knew for the moment, just the water and the breeze and his lips and my lips.

There I was, standing by Lake Lucern, just twenty-four and caught completely unawares. A boy named Wil, his arms wrapped around me, kissing me and pulling me tightly to him. I was sort of smitten for a brief moment because when does that happen to a girl, you know? When do you find yourself in a beautiful foreign country, nestled in the Swiss Alps on a chilly Spring night, under a sky full of stars kissing a mischievous, smart, funny and completely gorgeous boy who tells you that you are beautiful? I mean, that is sort of a once in your life kind of moment.

And dear heavens it was perfect. Absolutely and positively perfect.

In fact, it might have been the best kiss of my life, and I've had a few good ones. Now I don't know what happened to Wil. We exchanged a few emails, and then he was gone. Now that I look back on it, I wouldn't change a thing. And that is the story of the way Wil kissed me that one night next to a lake in Switzerland.