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It’s very hard for me to go back to my “firsts” because the girl, now woman, they happened with is no longer someone I chose to speak with. I will do my best to go back into time, now almost 13 years ago, and relive the night that solidified my love for women.

I was thirteen years old and it was the summer before I entered high school. There were other girls that I had crushes on in grade school and junior high, but none had been as serious as what took place that summer. Amy and I started our friendship in the 8th grade. We met through my best friend at the time. During that year I found myself falling for her in so many ways. I can remember walking 3 miles just to get to her house. Writing her notes and wanting to spend absolutely all of my free time with her. There is nothing as peculiar as loving someone that you “know” you’re not supposed to love. It makes it dreadful and exciting all at the same time.

The summer before high school Amy and I were together every day. We would spend the night at one another’s house every weekend. By the end of the summer I knew that I had to say something or I would die. I had a collection of journals filled with written confirmation of my love for her hidden under the carpet in the corner of my bedroom.

One of the most puzzling aspects of my behavior then that plagues me even now is that during the courting phase I could be a complete ass to Amy. I was either scarcastic and evil or charming and kind. There was hardly any in between. When I was mean to her and she continued to talk to me I had a hint that she felt the same way as I did. If I were just a “friend” she would have never dealt with my mood swings. Nor would she have come back for more.

On to the night it all happened. It was August 28th, I remember this only because that date proved to be our anniversary for the next 4 years. We were spending the night at my best friends house, the one that introduced us. She had fallen asleep early and Amy and I were lying on the couch. Somehow Amy ended up laying on top of me. We were talking and she began to run the tips of her fingers along my neck and jaw line. At that point I could feel myself melting. It’s one of those moments that you want to never forget, but it’s happening so fast that it feels like it’s slow motion.

After about ten minutes of talking and touching Amy and I kissed for the first time. I like to consider myself a poet, but in all the years since that night I have never been able to come up with the words to describe how that kiss felt and what it did to me. Our tongues triped over one another, I’m pretty sure there was a bit too much saliva, and our noses just couldn’t find the right position. Despite all that it was one of the most amazing, breathtaking, and honest, moments of my life.

There is more to tell about Amy and I. If you can imagine going all through high school closeted and having no one to talk to. Actually, I’m sure many of you can in one form or another. But I will save those for another time. Although Amy and I are not a part of one another’s life now, I wouldn’t have changed a single thing about what we had.