Today for no good reason at all, I was compelled to go to Facebook and look up the first boy I ever kissed.

I still remember the game of 7 Minutes in Heaven at gymnastics camp, scampering up into the sand dunes with him, away from the circles of giggling kids. The sand was cool. The air was perfect, and the waves of the Long Island Sound crashed below us. I let him kiss me. He asked me if it was my first time. I may have lied.

I was nervous. It was nice. We kissed again. My heart raced.

The next day, he liked someone else instead. She was older. She had blonde hair and wore thick, slick pink lip gloss. She was always rubbing her lips together. She could do full splits. She lived in the city. I didn’t stand a chance.

Today I saw his face for the first time in 30 years. He’s adorable. He’s also a fan of Living with Wine and Gay List Daily.

I have that effect on some ten year-olds.

Who was the first boy you ever kissed? Where is he now?