August Nights

On an August night, many years ago, she received her first kiss. It was a hot night, the air was virtually electric around her. Excitement coursed through her veins. There seemed to be very little fear although this was all new to her. To think that someone like him would be interested in her, a mousy, 13 year old girl with skinned knees and no fashion sense. It made her giddy and light headed. What did he see in her? Why did he have that look of longing in his eyes? He must see something in her...there must be something beautiful, something worthy there.

They met by the fence gate. His gaze melted her, from the inside out. She felt beautiful, small, fragile and powerful all at once. This was sweet, and it tasted like honey.

Thirty some odd years have passed, and he is not the same person he was on that night, and neither is she. In the grand scheme of things, he was her first kiss, which of course woke her up to the joys of electricity, but that's what it was, one of many firsts she would experience. She has grown up and has children and a family of her own, and so does he. They are not discontented, they have grown and moved on. But, despite their changing, they will always exist somewhere, somehow as they did that night by the fence, two young people grasping at life, holding on to something precious. A first is, if anything, a precious thing.

If all nights could be August nights......invigorating, electric and new.

Why can't August last forever? Why must we grow old?