When I was a child, I never had babysitters, I always went to my grandmother's mobile home. She didn't drive after the accident, so her car park was filled with plants she would water in the late afternoon, the glistening water forming a rainbow in the sunlight. In front was a concrete birdbath, always bare and dry. Inside there was a dog and cat, in separate rooms, and I would curl up with the dog in the sun by the window, because the cat made me sneeze. My grandmother and I would sit on the ancient, dusty couches, and toss the pillows back and forth, or play 'Button, button,' or simply shut the blinds, turn off the lights, and watch candlelight dance on the walls. Her home smelled of the animals, turpentine, mothballs, and potpourri. I was too young to appreciate knowing an amazing woman, but when she died, I locked myself in the dark, hot garage of my parent's home and cried for the day.

When I kissed him, it never occurred to me that he was gay. A year later, I couldn't understand how I could be so blind. I don't count it as *my* first kiss, because he didn't kiss me. MY first kiss turned out to be, in the long run, one of the biggest disappointments in my life. I wonder how many first kisses have lead to that?

I was 21 years old. It's not like I was waiting for the perfect partner, place, or situation. It just didn't happen until then. Maybe I wasn't the kissing type. At the time, I thought I was just unlucky. In hindsight, and in consideration of all the complications that I've found come along with kisses, maybe I was actually more fortunate than most.
He was supposedly my friend. His cousin was my best friend and soulmate. The three of us, and our four other friends were inseparable that summer. That whole, cliche, "us against the world" thing, that runs so rampant through young adult novels and made for t.v. movies? That was us. We ranged in age from 17 to 22, in education from high school students to near college graduates, but something bound us together. Something made us different from everyone else working at camp that summer. In the beginning, we told ourselves and everyone who would listen it was the cigarettes we had to sneak off the camp grounds to smoke. As the days (which felt something like weeks) and the weeks (which passed more quickly than days) flew by, it became apparent that there was more to us than the Marlboro Menthol Lights, or Parliament Lights, as the case may have been. I still don't know what drew us together- but I digress.
One night, after hours spent on a dirt road talking about everything that mattered and nothing important, Billy and I found ourselves the last two awake. It was probably four o'clock in the morning when Billy suggested a sleepover. I have no idea if he had intentions other than listening to annoying whiny music and giggling together for the few hours until the sun came up but I, for one, did not.
There was whiny music and giggling, but the conversation took a turn and before I knew what was going on we were making out. My first kiss did not end there and after the damage was done we set my alarm clock to go off in an hour and a half so he could sneak back to his room before anyone else was up.
The next day was awkward, to say the least, and I found myself unable to talk to this boy, who was supposed to be one of my best friends. I confessed what had happened to his cousin, the kindred spirit, and after that things returned to normal. It should be noted that by normal, I actually mean that Billy and I continued to fool around all summer. And everytime he came to visit me at school that year. Before moving back to camp that summer, we decided to stop and be friends again. Friends without benefits.
We tried that for about one day and then commenced sleeping together again. After another summer and the following months, we decided to call a truce again. This time it stuck. We don't talk anymore, but honestly I think that has very little to do with what began with my first kiss. Maybe it's because I was probably in love with his cousin the whole time. Maybe it's because we were children and have since grown up. Maybe it's because what happens over the summer isn't supposed to count. Or maybe, it's because kissing is complicated.
There have been boyfriends and not boyfriends since my first kiss and if I've learned anything, it's that while kissing will always be fun, it does not get any easier.

I was staying with my grandfather in his little apartment while my grandmother was at the hospital down the street. She had a stroke and couldn't speak - and his whole life now revolved around spending time sitting beside her every day. I lived in Calgary at the time but my dad thought it was important for me to spend some time with him. I remember one night after dinner we were watching TV and he told me that he really wanted to watch the Chinese news on Channel 4. It hadn't started yet and he drifted off to sleep in his chair. I turned the channel and saw 'Seinfeld'. I thought it was really funny so I continued to watch it, even though I know my grandfather really wanted to watch the news. When he woke up we switched the channel and the news had already ended - he missed it. He missed it because I purposely didn't wake him up. I wish he were still alive today so we could watch the news together. I've always felt guilty about this.

we were in 6th grade and he was my first 'boyfriend.' all the other kids gathered us in the cafeteria after school one day, trying to get us to kiss . . . we were too shy . . . another much more 'experienced' 6th grade couple walked up to each other and demonstrated for us - a quick peck on the lips . . . it didn't seem so hard, but neither of us could muster up the courage to get anywhere near the other's lips . . . the idea of it just seemed so weird! finally, he walked up to me and pecked me on the cheek. everyone went home disappointed that afternoon.

a couple weeks (months?) later, i was sitting behind him around a campfire at our 6th grade week at camp . . . as everyone got up to go to their cabins, he turned around and leaned in to kiss me good nite . . . i turned slightly, thinking he was going for my cheek, but i think he aimed for my lips, and he caught me just on the corner of my lips . . . it was the closest i'd ever come to a 'REAL' kiss! thank goodness it was dark so no one could see my stunned expression . . . stunned in a good way, of course! i went to bed real happy that nite =)

My first kiss happened late in life. I had been avoiding any intimacy with boys all of my life. Finally when I was 18 I decided it had been long enough and I should get this phase over with. This older boy who for some reason was interested in me took me out on a date. Actually, my first date. I thought he was so cool. He was a Go-Fast rep. and was sponsored by this company for mountain boarding or something. I had no idea what he saw in me. I still had braces on, no experience, and was more shy than a mouse.
At the end of the date, it became that time for the 'good evening kiss'. I was so nervous, but thought now or never.
I'd have to say that was the weirdest 'relationship'. I spent a few nights at his place which happened to be a scudsy hotel where a boa constrictor was loose. I found out he only had one leg. He was just using me to get back at his x-girlfriend, even though I'm not jealous making material. He wasn't sponsored by Go-Fast. Actually everything about him was a lie And one day he stopped returning my calls. Go-Figure

My first kiss. I don't remember it too vividly, but 5 minutes (or maybe even longer), I gathered my thoughts and realized that i had my first kiss. I guess its one of those moments that you think about for a long time and when it happens, it doesnt feel so different. its sorta like, you build up for so long your 16th birthday (or 18th or 20th or 21st) and when you get there, you think that you're gonna feel OLD. but when it happens, everything is kinda anticlimatic. anyway, when i got home, my grandma greeted me at the door. for a second, i wondered if she could tell that something was different about me.

Anyway, after we broke up, we didnt talk for the longest time. I didnt really think about it cause well, there wasnt much to remember. I saw her at prom and barely recognized her. i said hi and took a picture with her. and that was that.

my first kiss was stolen from me unexpectedly.
he was cute and good-looking, and many girls liked him because he was charming yet sweet.

we were at a basketball game and i was looking away when he all of a sudden grabbed by chin and placed a kiss on my lips. it was quick, yet soft. i swiftly pulled away because of the shock and he apologized for doing something so unexpected. i said it was fine, but inside i had hoped it would happen differently...

in my dreams my first kiss would be somewhere romantic, at the perfect moment. but this had happened so suddenly. i thought the kiss would feel exhilarating and my heart would be racing, but i felt none of that...

This started with my almost-kiss. We were both on the dance floor at a wedding. A slow song came on and all our friends had started to pair off. I was sure he was going to ask me because we were best friends. He had no other choice but to ask me anyways - we were the only two people left. Our dance was magical and for the first time when I glanced into his eyes there were sparks flying. When our eyes met, we had our almost kiss.

A year later I broke both of our hearts by ending our friendship. The unforseen circumstances for the both of us were personal and the stress of carrying each other became too much. Maybe because we were too young or maybe because we just weren't meant to be. I'm happy that you have found your perfect girlfriend now. I wish I never caused the both of us so much heartache and tears. There isn't a day that goes by that I dont wish you were still my best friend.

my first kiss happened with my first boyfriend in grade 10.

he has been hinting for awhile that he wanted to kiss me, but the first time he attempted, my head was placed too low and he lost his momentum.

the second time around, we were sitting on my bed. i had a teenage ninja turtle pillowcase that i've had with me since i was 5. he asked me what my favourite turtle was, and after my answer, i was again staring down.

but this time around, he reached over, dipped his head underneath mine and landed a kiss on me.

oddly enough, after the kiss, i ran away to the washroom because of the rush of it all. i came back and he asked me if i was okay. i just smiled shyly.

around a month later, this boy broke up with me. he told me he was too busy with school to spend time with me. but then, another month later, he asked my then-best friend out.

this kiss has literally set the standard. for the next dozen of kisses ive had with other guys after that, somehow, it always started by sitting on my bed. i have yet to experience a first kiss with a guy that's somewhere else.