I was resting, half asleep, half dreaming. I started thinking of the first time that I kissed Matt. I don’t remember very much more about it than the circumstances. I had been hanging out with Matt a lot and it was pretty clear that he was interested in being more than friends (he did try to kiss me first.) I thought about it and decided I would date him. To let him know, one evening when we were hanging out in his dorm room, I leaned in and kissed him. I remember his dorm room and I remember his curly hair. It’s such a vague, fleeting memory, like a fairy, except for the curly hair.

So why was I thinking about this as I sat in the piano studio waiting while the kids had their lesson? I have been grieving some things this summer and I started wondering what it must have felt like for Matt to have me kiss him. He was pursuing me, and at that moment he caught me. I wonder what it was like for him to be in love and how it affected what he did and felt when I wasn’t there.