This morning as I was being used as a human jungle gym, my mind wandered…
This summer marks 14 years since my first kiss. And every summer I can’t help but think back to that day. And that boy. He was almost 16. Which as any teenager knows, is a big deal, because obviously you’re so close to adulthood at 16, because you can drive. He was one of those boys who might come across as a little full of himself. (And it might have been a little true.) Lots of friends and always sure of himself. The adult in me sees that most of that was probably a facade, but to the shy teenage girl, it was totally believable.
So I sit and think about what happened between us that summer, the letters, the phone calls… I consider the ways I grew and changed afterwards, and how he inevitably did too. I remember how weekly e-mails in high school turned to yearly birthday calls in college. I don’t remember any of it being particularly heart breaking (he may remember it differently, but I still see it with a bit of rose-colored glasses). Mostly, though, I think about the way time and circumstance changes people. The girl I was…how she became the woman she is. The boy he was and how he became the man he is… and I can’t help but wonder at the affects of that kiss. Now it may seem silly to for me to even think about considering where I’m at now, but I can’t help but wonder what life would look like if the inevitable too-young-love break-up hadn’t occurred.
So instead of the what-might-have-beens, I take a deep breath, let out a sigh, and smile. The roads that boy and I have taken since that fateful night so long ago… there’s been bends and twists, heartbreaks and tears, and even laughter… for both of us. But as my hair is being pulled by my youngest, my oldest launching himself off the couch and onto my stomach, while my middlest lays next to me laughing hysterically; I have no doubts, no second-guesses, no wish-we-would-haves. Only a silent acknowledgment that the roads that boy and I took, well, we needed to take them, as individuals. And I kind of think it makes the road we’re on, as adults, that much sweeter. After all, that boy turned into the most wonderful husband and the most amazing father that this 14-year-old-girl-turned-woman could ever have dreamed of. ♥ And sometimes it’s the sweetness of “our story” and the length of our friendship, love, and history that keep me from killing him (figuratively, of course), so I think he’s probably thankful for it too.
laborofwonder 
Wow, great thoughts! I loved reading what you were writing, of course, not knowing that that boy became your man. 🙂 Thanks for sharing!
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