16 Years?!?

This is how I remember it. She might recall it differently, but this is how it is in my mind...

It was June 3rd, 1988. We had gone to see a movie earlier in the evening (we saw a lot of them in those days -- on that particular date it happened to be Crocodile Dundee II), and then gone for a walk in Gallup Park and been chased by older kids with flashlights. We had run away from them, holding hands. We were at her house now, and my brother and his date were waiting in the car while we said goodnight. His date had to be dropped off on our way home, so I knew that we were going to be cutting it close to midnight, which was our curfew.

I walked her up to her front porch, a concrete slab two steps up from the driveway, and stood there right next to the porch lamp, which was the only light nearby, blinding because of the surrounding dark. I knew her dad was probably waiting just inside the door, in the living room, and in a minute or two would start flicking the light on and off impatiently. We said our goodnights, and at the point where I would usually turn and walk to my car, giving a wave as I went and a promise that I would call her the next day, I just stood there.

We looked at each other, waiting, for what seemed like a long time, and then she said, softly, smiling, "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

It was all the invitation I needed. I leaned in, and was suddenly aware of how close her face was, closer than we had ever been before -- and I then I felt her lips on mine. Every part of my body, all the sensory input it was receiving -- the cool night air, the blinding porch light, all of it -- was gone except for the feeling of one second of those soft lips...

Then she pulled back from me, said goodnight again, and went inside. I got in my car and drove all the way home with my windows half-open to the summer night, a big stupid grin on my face.

And today we celebrate our 16th wedding anniversary. I hope Muffinhead knows how much I still love her after more than 22 years after that night, and even though that kiss was only the first of thousands, after each one -- on the inside, at least -- I'm still that teenager with a grin on his face, speeding home in the dark on a summer night.