My first kiss tasted of soy sauce.
Not literally tasted! We didn’t go that far,
but the bitter saltiness of it
only enhanced the sweetness of the moment.
He had never had Chinese food,
And I had never been kissed.
That’s right! At the age of 17
My lips had never met another boy’s
And for the first time, in my car
Outside the band room, I swear I could
have heard music floating in the air
in the small space between my face
and his as he leaned In for a second peck.
We dated for a while, but eventually
We broke up because we were too similar, I guess.
I liked men, and, uh, so did he…
I began to think I missed my chance I that kiss
And the validity of it was brought into question.
Maybe I had missed my chance
Way back on the playground
Because I never stole kisses behind the slide
Or teased the boys with my third grade girlish charm
Like all my other friends.
Maybe, deep down, I knew I could only settle
On true love.
Not just a fling that was only a thing
For a week of “pure bliss”
Because when I find love, I want Full House perfection.
I want a Tanner family connection.
Something that when I go grocery shopping
I can proudly say, “Those kids climbing the walls
And that man knocking on all the watermelons.
Yeah, I’m with them.”
And people will have no other choice
But to understand the perfection I am in.
I hold onto the hope that someday
The strings connecting all the living things
Will tie me together with someone I can love
And who will love me
And one day I will find a man who
Doesn’t have the dreaded cootie disease.
Because for every Adam,
there must be an Eve or where else would we be?
Someday and one day can seem so far way
If you get anxious,
But I will let things fall in place
For me to fall in love.
I just have to remember
Not to be afraid to taste the soy sauce.