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Naturally, when I think of favorite moments, favorite nights, etc…  My first thought is something to do with my children.  The night that I laid in the hospital, the day before Monkeyface was born, and felt her moving inside me, listening to her heartbeat on the monitor, knowing it was the last night I’d share that special bond with her, and that I would get to kiss her little face soon.  That was  an amazing night.   The nights that Meatball would lay in bed with me, just him and me, and I could feel his sweet little breath on my neck as he slept…  I will never forget that.

But for the sake of levity, let’s talk about a particular night from my youth.

I went to high school in Japan.  It was an Air Force base in the north, and I was a bit of a wild child my senior year.  Miss V and I caused quite a ruckus and miraculously, didn’t destroy either of our lives.. ha!  In Japan, if you were old enough to reach the counter, you were pretty much old enough to be served alcohol.   So, while most people get all their oats sewn and partying out at 21, mine was a bit earlier than that.

A few days after graduation is when I moved back to the states, and the night before I flew out of Japan, I went out partying, drinking and carrying on with a group of friends.  There was one guy in particular that I’d wanted to go out with us.  His name was Nate, and he was in the Air Force.  We’d only ever been friends, but he was adorable.  I called his room and left him a message letting him know we were going out and where we were going to start, knowing that it would be a pub crawl, in essence.

He didn’t show all night, and after the first couple of drinks and the first bar, I’d pretty much gotten over it and commenced to having a great time with some great people.  The night was long, and around 6 a.m., we were at a Ramen house, filling our drunken tummies with some noodles and hot broth before heading home.  It started to drizzle outside, so we figured we’d better head back home before it started to pour.  A girlfriend and I were walking toward home in this alleyway, going from awning to awning, to avoid the rain, which was starting to let up a little.  I heard someone call my name and I looked out of the awning we were huddled under, and there was Nate.  He was across the alley, under a different awning, and he had a friend with him.  They came over to us, and we talked for a few minutes.

He’d had duty.  He came home at 5, heard my message and immediately gotten dressed and come out to see if he could find me.  They hadn’t been drinking, so they had his friend’s car.  His friend suggested that he drive us home, but Nate suggested that he drive my friend home, and Nate would walk me home, if it was okay with me.  Of course it was okay, so my friend took off with his friend, and Nate and I stood there, in the alleyway, waiting for a few, talking.  I don’t think either of us was in a hurry to start walking toward my home.

Eventually, though, we had to.  So, we started walking, and in the middle of that alley, he turned to me, and said “Before we head home, can I do something I’ve wanted to do since the moment that I met you?”  I said “What’s that?”  And he said, “Can I kiss you?”

My heart pounded in my chest, and I think I nodded.  He was facing me, and stepped in closer to me, his eyes never leaving mine.  As he stepped in, it opened up and rain started to pour on us.  There was surprise and a little giggling, but not a whole lot we could do about it.  So, with the rain soaking us both, and the only light coming from the breaking of daylight, he leaned in toward me.  For me, it seemed like that moment just froze in time.  I could feel my heartbeat, I could feel his breath against my lips.  It seemed like a lifetime before I finally felt them on mine, but when I did, my head swam.

His lips were soft, and warm.  I could feel the raindrops on my face, dripping from my hair, and they only intensified his touch.  It was a sweet kiss.  Tentative and pure.  There wasn’t sex in the air, just…. youth.  He tasted like cinnamon, and his tongue was hypnotizing.  It felt like he was drinking from my mouth, leaving me melted in his wake.   Before I knew it, time had started again and the kiss was broken.  He looked down at me, and there was longing there.  Wistfulness, maybe.  We’d likely never see each other again.  He smiled at me, took my hand, and walked me home.

The entire walk, my head was dizzy.  The rain had stopped by the time we reached my house, and when we did, he gave me a great big hug, pressed his address into my hand and asked me to write to him.  I promised I would and went inside.

Somewhere in the move, I lost his address.  I never wrote to him, and I never saw him again.  Somewhere, he’s out there, and I hope his life has been lived with as much hope and passion as I glimpsed in that moment.

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