My first kiss was with a boy that I went to preschool with. His name is Owen Krause. Owen also happened to be my best friend at the time. We were quite young and were obviously still into make- believe games so it was probably around kindergarten. But lets be seriously, I took an abnormally long time to come out of that stage in my life, so it could have been at any number of ages, I truly do not recall.
Owens father, Chris, had built him an under ground bunker. Yes, a real under ground bunker. It had a wooden top that was raised above the ground no more than a foot. There were stairs that led down to the open bunker with two built in benches on opposite sides. it was probably about 10x5 and about 5 feet tall.It was placed right next to his driveway just parallel to the drive with the opening facing the side road he lived on, making it perfect to spy on his neighbor across the street. His yellow barn loomed in the background as we pretended to duck and cover and crash through the overgrown field to the left. I remember he was wearing his favorite dark brown corduroys and a blue tee shirt. He was always obsessed with those brown corduroys and I have no idea why, sometimes when he'd wear them he would remind me that they were his favorite and I would remind him that I knew that. Its strange the things you remember from your childhood. they aren't always the most important things, but they become the small details that no one else will ever know about and that you will never forget because of it. His pants were exactly the color of a dark brown teddy bear. He had light hair and was very thin, his smile was so infectious though, he seemed a bit scrawny to me even then, but I never told him that to his face. You see, he was a big talker. He always told me that he would never be afraid of anything. I also never told him that that was because his mom didn't let him watch cable.
We were attached at the hip as children, he was always at my house and I was always at him. I would actually throw fits when I had to leave. I would tell my mother that I "would never speak to her again if she didn't turn the car around. Right. Now." I don't know who I don't know who I thought i was talking to her like that. someone important apparently. As close as we were, I didn't think it strange when he asked me if he could kiss me. I just sort of went with it. He asked me and I said "why?" he said something along the lines of " that's what boys and girls do, they kiss" and I said "okay" he leaned in and kissed me and then he looked at me. I started laughing which made him laugh and we both ran out of the dusty bunker chasing each other and finding another adventure to conquer.
He told me never to tell anyone that and believe me I kept that secret well into middle school. Marie Bissonnette is the one that finally dragged it out of me. I even felt a little guilty about it. By that time Owen and I were not as close anymore and we saw less and less of each other as the years went on.
On September 19th 2012 Owen Thomas was killed in a head on car collision while driving to school.
The bunker at his house is no longer there. Where it used to be is filled in and now its more space for cars to fit in their driveway. It was me, Owen and the bunker and now its just me with the memory that dusty afternoon as children. Like I said, its sort of funny the memories that you take with you from your childhood as you grow up. I don't remember the majority of my birthday parties or some of the "monumental" presents I received at Christmas but I remember the fact that I kept on getting dirt in my eye that day and I cried about it a few hours after my first kiss and I remember the broken sled that sat in the corner, even though it was well into spring time and on its way to being summer. It probably sat there for God knows hows long after that day too.
So that is the story of my first kiss.
This is so cute <3
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