First Kisses

The gentle sea breeze stroked our faces, as we sat in silence gazing out at the calm waves. The moon was noticeably missing from the night-time sky, and the stars seemed to have shyed away behind the clouds as well. It was a quiet moment, with little movement or sound from Mother Nature; or any of us for that matter, save for the sound of our breaths. You know that they say, "Once the talking stops, the kissing starts." And speaking of which, this scene, this moment was probably more than a perfect setting for a kiss, a first kiss (between us at least).

As my opportunistic-self realised that the circumstance was perfect to breach the physical barrier between us, I looked up in thought, and an idea came to my mind. "Hey, you know what, let's play a game, if I can find a star in the sky, you'll have to kiss me; if not, I'll kiss you." I asked cheekily.

"Hey, no... What's the difference?" she said. "Either way I end up losing out."

In my usual dogmatism, I ignored what she said and started looking up in the sky for a twinkling glimmer of hope. In a distance, I saw one tiny sparkle, glimmering faintly. "Hey there, I found one," I exclaimed pointing to it triumphantly. "You lost."

"Where? I don't see it," she said.

I tried pointing to its exact location, asking her to concentrate on it to see it, but denial after denial of its existence followed. I will never find out if it was genuine or not, but my usual dogmatism took over. "I don't care, whether you see it or not, it's there and you lost. So..." I smiled cheekily and raised my eyebrows at her.

"Hey, its not fair, I really don't see it. So, no I didn't lose," she rebutted. I tried pointing out the location of the faintly shining star again, telling her to wait for the clouds to roll by and maybe she would get a better view. The general heuristic of being a gentleman is give the lady what she wants if she insists on it after 3 times of asking, and knowing that she was not really willing to compromise, I let the topic rest.

Later, on the way back to the car, a possibility suddenly struck me as to why the vehement refusal to my dark invitation despite the magic of the moment. So I asked, "Hmm, honestly, did you refuse to kiss me because it was your first ACTUAL kiss?"

She paused briefly, nodded and responded, "Yeah, partially."

"Well, honestly, I think that it was a waste... I mean, everything about the moment was so right for a kiss; the mood, the ambiance, the beach... I mean if there's anything that would have made a memorable first kiss, that would have surely been it. And seriously, if the beach can't convince you, then I guess nothing can," I argued.

"Well, to me, I think its more about the person that you're kissing that's important, the rest is not that important," she responded.

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Memories of my first long kiss in my teenage years came flooding back into my mind: it was at MOS burger at Bugis, we were just having a lunch then, when a sudden surge of emotion came over me as she (OBVIOUSLY a different she from the she mentioned above) was feeding me fries. I bent forward, and she picked up the cue, bending forward too... we kissed, a long and hard kiss supposedly full of love and passion (or so I thought).

Yes, it was in the public eye; yes, we didn't seem to care; yes, we probably thought that we were being expressive of our love and yes, I would probably have smirked at the foolishness or cringed in disgust and went over to beat the living crap out of myself, if the present-I were a passive onlooker of the scene that the then-me was participating in back then.

I am sure it meant something back then, when I was in love; maybe it was important to remember how it came about, the date and maybe even the damn time of which it occurred, the bloody table it took place at, the emotions back then, all the damn mushy details you would look back on and laugh about as a couple when you relive the moment. Maybe all the details meant something "she" meant something.

But now that the cold reality of the matter is that "she" doesn't anymore, how much of it still matters then? How much of the details actual amount to anything now when I look back at it? Which part of the unimpressive ambiance, or the mood, or the location means anything on an emotional level anymore? Honestly, none of it. And so, looking back at my first kiss in retrospect, what about it actually matters? Probably nothing except for the facts, and that probably boils down to this: it happened at MOS burger. It's MOS burger, for Christ's sake, and how bloody romantic can losing your First Kiss at MOS burger be?

At the end of the day, when its all said and done, the "who" is only a passing element, and is only as much as a part of that which constitutes the Immortalization of the Memory as are the "where" and the "how." Of course its ideal to lose your First Kiss to someone that you know you loved at least at the moment to make the kiss really special, but that alone is not enough. The setting, mood and story behind it that contribute most in making the First Kiss a memory to remember, more so than the "who" in the long-run.

For when the feelings fade, and all you're left with are the facts of the matter, its better to look back at your First Kiss and be able to tell yourself that at that moment, it was perfect to kiss or be kissed; even if it is with someone you might not be sure of whether he/she is "The One" or not, but AT LEAST you know that you were attracted enough to him/her to make him/her part of the memory. Compared to holding out for someone you might THINK is "The One," and solely focus on the "who," totally ignoring the "where" and "how," only to left with the memory of a greasy First Kiss at a fast-food joint when it ends.

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I explained my stand to her (the original her), but the look in her eyes were more than telling that I wouldn't be able to change her idealistic notion of her world coming to a complete stop and she will see fairies and fireworks when she actually does kiss "The One." Oh well, I hope she likes MOS burger.