It's the fifth anniversary of my first kiss, and I'm still with that person today, so I want to tell you guys that story (and it's possibly the sweetest one I've ever heard).
April 22, 2009 was a beautiful, warm day in spring. It was comfortably warm outside, with a slight breeze, and not a cloud in sight. Everything was so green. My high school had a half-day, and I had made plans to have a picnic with my then-boyfriend, now-comrade in a field near per house. We had homemade gyros (per made the cream sauce and the meat). The field was on a hill, which made hugging per convenient considering there was a 4-inch height difference between us at the time (I was taller). I don't think you quite understand how idyllic this scene was. We couldn't see a road or houses anywhere, the wind really did make the grass look like waves, and it was so quiet. The field had not yet been tilled, so the grasses were almost up to our waists. We flattened a little section of it so we could lay the blanket down and eat.
After the meal, we packed up the blanket and dirty plates into the basket and just laid down on the grass, completely walled in by the grass we hadn't flattened. The only thing we could see was the sky and each other. We rolled onto our sides to look at each other and put our foreheads together (we had a really intense nuzzling phase in our relationship).
I asked if I could kiss per, and per nodded. I leaned in and just gave per a little peck and it felt so awkward. So we decided to try again. And then the afternoon turned into practicing and yeah.
Three hours later, we packed everything up and headed back to per house. Five years later, we're still together, despite several hang-ups along the way.
