I remember the first time I kissed you it felt like gravity. As we sat next to each other and I held your hand the space between us was shrinking but I don’t remember moving closer to you. I tried to slowly climb down the footholds of the familiar so that I didn’t fall too hard if there was a bottom.

There was no bottom. There was just the pull of an invisible force drawing us closer. I’m not sure what happened next, it feels as if my memory has holes. Maybe my mind was so focused on the moment it forgot to take down notes. I don’t know if I kissed your cheek first but I remember that our lips did eventually touch. I remember closing my eyes and losing track of everything around me at the time they did. I remember slipping back to reality each time we broke contact and looking out of the rikshaw to be surprised at how much we’ve traveled. I never thought that Amboli was too close to home before. I remember offering to drop you home at least five times, because staying there inside of that feeling for as long as possible made the most sense. You refused each time.

When you finally left I know that I felt something close to dizzy, something close to light headed. I felt a way I hadn’t felt in so long that my mind couldn’t correlate it with anything known and decided to file it as an altogether new feeling.

Of the times we’ve kissed after that, none, save a few felt as good and as right. Maybe it was a sign of the way things were going to go. When I look at you today I don’t see the girl who kissed me the way she did. I think that my mind has split you up into many different people. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so much time with you and thinking about you that I can’t comprehend all of it as one person. Or maybe it’s because I need to convince myself that the girl who kissed me the way she did was only with me for that span of time and doesn’t exist anymore.