The Kiss
Through perfectly falling snowflakes, the sun was shining, and the clouds were arranged like hydrangeas covered in glitter. Inside, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and thought about the kiss and how, if this is what it’s supposed to feel like, I hope it lasts forever.
I didn’t think about anyone else, my debts, the two pimples slowly turning into three on my left cheek, the dishes in the kitchen sink, or the tears that often loomed like lint in the back pocket of my jeans. I only thought about the kiss, my favorite one, the one I saw every time I closed my eyes, comparing the re-occurring thought to my addiction to sugar. The kiss was better than that because it kept the candy out of my teeth and put the sweetness where I always knew it was meant to belong.
The kiss wore blue and white striped pajamas and tucked itself into a king-sized hotel bed with pillows fluffier than toasted marshmallows or two snowmen holding hands. It made me feel like a president’s wife or an old Hollywood star with perfect hair who was the only person anyone noticed in any room she entered.
It was more than freezing outside, but thoughts of the kiss flooded every corner of my apartment, wrapping me in an angel’s wing, making my cheeks warm because I was desperately trying to pull it back down from the stars and put it somewhere where it couldn’t be any further than my outstretched hands when they were held.
I thought about what the kiss might have looked like with my eyes open or what it might have looked like if it was spring or summer or if my hair was different or if I was one hundred years old or not alive at all. I thought about what it looked like from every angle, from a Birds Eye view, from up close or from space. No matter how I thought about it, the kiss was unblemished, whatever the circumstances might be, because something this flawless couldn’t have anything wrong with it, no matter what happened.
Again and again, the kiss made its way out of my dreams and into my reality. The kiss made every night New Year's Eve or as close as you could get to promises of what happens after midnight without having any doubts that the magic would end when the sun came up.
The kiss was everything I hoped it would be before it happened, and it was everything plus ten when it was over. The kiss revealed every secret of the world and made nothing worth fearing. The kiss made me as tall as The Chrysler Building and made every second twinkle like fireworks right as they erupted.
The kiss happened on a Sunday. My hair got in the way and turned everything gold. I compared the kiss to gold. The kiss made more sense to me than anything.
The kiss reminded me of a song I can’t get out of my head. It reminded me of how I felt about my first crush, the ocean across the street from my childhood home and the first time I baked cookies with my grandma. A favorite memory. The best one. One I know I’ll never forget.