For my writing class this semester we had to write a personal narrative and the post it on our blog. Here is mine.
The
Kiss worth More than Money
By
Nathan Jensen
“Happy birthday, Nathan!” exclaimed Mark as I trekked up
the stairs, ready to go to church. Mark is my older brother and close friend.
We often spent time together working out at the gym, working up a sweat, or defending
humanity from the invasion of alien forces in our favorite video games. Mark is
seven years older than me and a heroic figure in my eyes. He had always been
stronger than me growing up and “worked me over” in every sport we played
together. His dirty blond curly hair was a poofy afro as it always got when he hadn’t
cut it in months.
“Thanks,”
I shrugged.
“Do
you feel any older?” came Mark, poking fun at me as usual.
“No,
not really,” I lied. It was my sixteenth birthday. For every kid their
sixteenth birthday is a big landmark in their short lives thus far. It is the
age you are able to drive legally and there was something special about being
sixteen that made a teenager feel so much older than fifteen. For myself, I
felt more like a man because I was newly allowed by my parents to date. Before
this time, my parents disapproved of me even hanging out with my group of
friends if there were any girls in the group. Although I was permitted to casually
date, my parents had made deals with my siblings and I that if we could make it
to the age of eighteen without kissing anyone, they would give us a thousand
dollar reward. Only one of my sisters had been able make it to the age of eighteen
without kissing any boys.
In the days leading up to my birthday and throughout the
morning I received many comments from my family members asking if I would try
to make the thousand or not.
“If I had the chance I would take back all the kisses I had
before my spouse, and a thousand dollars is a lot of money for a kid,” said my
sister Laura who was recently married.
You’re probably
right, I thought, but I could not be bothered with waiting until I was
eighteen. I knew that I was destined to not make that thousand dollars from my
parents. For I had a secret that my family had no idea about. That secret had a
name, and her name was Charly. Charly was my latest crush and the girl of my
dreams. Charly and I had an honors art class together the year before, and we
had become great friends. We often walked home together after school. She had long
flowing brown hair with bangs that brushed over her forehead. Her eyes were a
deep, storm grey that matched her mysteriously complex personality. I was
greeted with beaming smiles whenever she saw me and her ability to get lost in
the feeling of every hug she gave me.
The rest of my birthday passed by without much more
excitement than a family get together as most my brothers and sisters gathered
around the dining table for a wonderful Sunday birthday dinner, and special German
Chocolate cake with my mom’s homemade frosting and ice cream for dessert. The
dinner was my father’s signature Sunday dinner, grilled flank steak with baked
baby potatoes and greens. That night I went to bed this a smile on my face,
satisfied with another birthday passed, and with all the possibilities of my
next year to come.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! My alarm sounded early in the morning
the next day. I awoke but remained in bed. My house felt like a sub-zero
freezer located in the tundra. Once I was good and ready to get on with my day
I got up and threw on my warmest clothes. My day at school dragged, teacher
after teacher, class after class, and bell after bell. Finally the last bell
rang and I left my class, relieved that another school day over. As I was
walking through the halls, bustling kids were going every which way, all trying
to get home, like an army of ants escaping their hill when the rain begins to
fall. Through the crowd I saw Charly waiting in the usual spot I had met her every
day during lunch and after school. Her hair was down to her shoulders, brown
with tiny highlights. Her face seemed to be glowing when she caught sight of
me.
“Hello
Charly,” I said, giving her a hug as if I had not seen her in years.
“How
was your day?” she asked playfully, walking with me toward the door.
“My
day was good,” I replied. We continued with our small talk as we left the
school and proceeded to walk home hand in hand. On our way, we crossed through
a nearby park, and as we passed by an exceptionally tall evergreen tree with a
blanket of snow covering it, I pulled on Charly’s hand bringing her to a stop
in the foot high snow. I wrapped my arms around her, giving her another big hug.
I leaned into the large fresh snow bank until we fell. We laughed until the
cold began to soak into our clothes. I nervously took a deep breath as if I was
about to plunge into a death trap of water. I began to pull away from the hug
and then slowly leaned back in to kiss her… waited a moment, which felt as if
it would never end. Then I closed my eyes and kissed Charly for the first time
as we both lay there in the snow. That kiss became burned into my brain as the
kiss I have not forgotten nor will I ever forget.
We gave each other a few more kiss, each kiss becoming
more and more comfortable and natural. Once we had enough, we continued to walk
toward home. As I walked beside Charly, thoughts of what my family would think
and say crept into my mind. Would they be
upset, or angry? Would they ground me like they had done before? I said
nothing of these thoughts to Charly but kept them to myself. After we reached
my neighborhood turn we said goodbye and departed with one last grand hug and
kiss.
I
walked down my street until Charly was out of sight and then broke into a
spirit home, getting more and more worried about what would happen when I got
home. As I approached my front door I slowed
down and calmed my heart rate. If I act
normal and say nothing, they won’t find out and it will be all good, I stepped
through the door. As I came into the living room I found my brother Mark
playing video games and my mother sitting at the kitchen table with all her
quilting projects spread out upon it. Right
on, I’ll just go sit down next to him and play some games. That’s normal,
right? I asked myself.
“How
was your day?” Mark asked as I sat down next to him.
“Oh,
it was pretty good.” I said, trying to keep the conversation to a minimal, in
hopes I wouldn’t divulge my secret and cause a scene. At that time it seemed I would
get away with my secret a little bit longer as I tried to mask the real way I was
feeling with the digital bits of the screen. Then all of the sudden out of the
nowhere my father walked through the door, home early from work. He set his
bags down near the table. I tried to not notice him. He took one look around
and then his eyes fixed on me.
“SO,
Nathan, you kiss anyone yet?”
My
heart jumped, just like the virtual hero in the game I was playing as he leaped
into a pit of lava by my reaction that jerked the joystick on the controller. I
was caught off guard and had no clue what I would say. “Ummmmmmm…” was all that
came out.
Then
came the reaction.
“WHAT,
ha ha,” Mark laughed, with wide eyes and a large grin on his face.
“Really?”
My dad said, amused. I could tell he was half laughing and half flabbergasted. He
probably thought it was humorous that he asked that question and I had actually
kissed a girl. After everyone in the room got the teasing remarks out towards
me the mood in the room changed. My parents wanted to more information about
how their youngest son had gotten such an out-of-the-blue kiss and who the girl
was that I had been spending time with. I felt as if I was in an FBI interrogation
and being the innocently honest young sixteen year old I was, I told them.
“You
know, Nathan, you are only sixteen and you really shouldn’t be dating anyone exclusively,”
my mom said. “We want you to tell this young girl you need to date other girls.
You should have fun and get to know lots of girls to just be friends.” I was
not happy to hear this from my parents. I cared for Charly and didn’t want to
tell her that I couldn’t kiss her anymore.
Over
the next few days I continued to see Charly and we kissed a few more times, but
every kiss made me feel worse and worse as if I was disobeying my parents. Finally
I decided I would listen to my mom. I sent Charly a message over the Internet
and told her I couldn’t kiss her anymore. This made me feel even worse and I
could see Charly was sad as well when I would pass her in the halls at school.
It was as if we both had storm clouds hanging over us, raining down on the feelings
we had for each other. After time we remained friends and the storm clouds
melted away. We would say “hi” to each other in the hall and give each other
the occasional hug. I could tell Charly held onto some of her feelings for me.
Years
passed and our communication was nonexistent. Charly and I had dated many other
people. I had now grown from a teenager to a young man of the age of
twenty-one. A mission had helped to create a new person from the child I was
back then. I had dreams of swimming for BYU and often liked to go for short
runs to stay in shape. The app I used for mile tracking would post the progress
of my runs on Facebook. After posting one of such runs I saw that Charly had
left a comment about how slow of a runner I was. I could tell by the way she
used her words that there was a slight flirtatious tone and thought I would
spark up a conversation. “Well if you think you are so much faster than me why
don’t we go for a run together sometime?” I commented back.
“Anytime,
anyplace,” she replied.
After
meeting back up for the first time in years of being apart, I could tell that
all those feelings I had for Charly back in the day had not left me, and that
they were real. Charly was a little skeptical of me at first because, after all,
I had broken her heart once before. A few days later we kissed once more for
the first time and a few long months later we were engaged. Now at almost a
year after our wedding I sit next to her writing this paper for my writing
class at BYU. She is doing her own homework. Both of us working towards our
goals and helping each other along the way. Our love burning bright. I look
over and she looks more beautiful than ever. Her hair is still long, her eyes
are still a smoky grey, and I say to the girl who stole my thousand dollar kiss:
“Every
moment is worth more to me than all the money in the world.”