Our first kiss

“bye mom, ill be back around seven” I announce as I open the door and allow myself to leave. It only took my two hours to get ready to hangout with him. “where are you” his text reads. My stomach does somersaults when I walk down the stairs that lead me to the open street, knowing I’ll be in his apartment in 5 minutes. I’m getting closer, a few more steps, a few more breaths and I’m standing out side his gate. I pull out my phone and swallow the last of my nerves. I type in ‘Anthony’ and press send. The phone rings once; ‘what are you going to do’ the phone rings twice; ‘will I be boring’ the phone rings three times; ‘shit I should’ve stayed home!’ “hey” his voice suprises me and I suck in my stomach as if I trying to appear 10 times skinnier. All I can say is “I’m here.” We meet each other half way through the parking lot and he greets me with a smile,  and I’m relieved. He walks me to a picnic bench where we stayed sitting across from each other for three hours. No awkward moments, not a minute of silence, and not once did I wish I stayed home. I’m reminded of the time, when my mom texts me ‘you were suppose to be home 20 minutes ago” and I let him know it was time for me to leave. He takes my hand in his and lifts it up to his  soft lips giving it a kiss. Still across from each other he leans over the table gripping my hand, only an inch away from my face I say “is this your way of leaning in?’ and he whispers “you’ll see.” We shared our first kiss, leaving me speechless. he smiles and its contagious. He walks me out to the street and gives me a peck good bye, it occupied my thoughts the rest of the night. I knew it wouldn’t be our last

photograph

His smile is so genuine and natural, the sun reflects off his face and he is swinting at the camera. My little arm is placed gently around his neck and laying across his shoulder. My brother Josh is nine in this photograph and I am four. This picture does not represent our childhood relationship, two years before this picture was captured my dad left my mom. I was only two, therefore I didn't understand the change, but my brother took it to heart. We have different fathers, His was absent most of the time so my dad took that place for him. When my dad left, he wasn't legally able to be Josh's father. My brother felt abandoned and he never fully recovered.

Josh wasn't exactly a social child, he'd hide out in his room and only come out for school. My mom was afraid josh wouldn't make friend so she introduced him to the two little boys next door, hoping they would get along. Instead, she came home from work one day to find Josh tied to a tree in front of the neighbors house. He was crying and couldn't move his arms, she was furious to see rope burns and mosquito bites all over his body, not to mention the little boys laughing through the window. He was only eight, and didn't feel accepted. He never fully recovered.

Although my brother and I were close growing up, everything about us was different. Even in this picture, my hair blonde with sticky knots and his: flawless short and jet black, but I understood him. I remember the first time he had a real friend over, his name was also Josh and he appericated my brother for who he was. They were attached at the hip starting in 3rd grade. I felt left out and he was always annoyed with me so I got my own group of friends and our conversations got shorter and shorter every time we were in each others presence till there was no conversation at all, just two people who share a house together. Until one day he got the news his best friend had been killed in a freak accident riding go cars in 6th grade. Josh never fully recovered.

I stare into the photograph and reminisce seeing his precious smile. It was never fake; he wouldn't show emotion unless he really felt it, such an honest child. We will never be the same again. I'll never see the gray rocks and emerald green water the same; the beautiful trees outlining the far side of the lake that looked so tall then, is now only in a picture frame. The lake is close to empty and the trees don't seem so tall anymore. There is a man swimming in the back round, if it weren't for him I'd believe this picture is prefect. The man facing the direction of the camera is probably envious, we look like the ideal commerical family. Mom propping down on one knee on the other side of the camera, squeezing one eye and looking through the lens with the other, snapping the moment before it changes. We look so pleased with each other if only for that day, our frozen smiles of summer will never fade, at least not in this picture.

Five years after Joshes best friend passed away he started talking again, using his smile on occasion, he attracted another group of friends, people like him: shy, quite, somewhat broken inside. They would hangout at their favorite taco bell after school and he trusted their honesty, and grew to love them as he used to love every one. One day his friend Daniel asked Josh if he wanted to skip a class to go to their favorite spot, Josh being afraid of trouble said no. Less then an hour later Josh was informed Daniel jumped off an overpass bridge and fell to his death. Josh never recovered.

Two years after this tragedy, Zack, Joshes last resource as friends go, was grocery shopping in a populated isle and suddenly dropped to the floor do to an asthma attack that shortly turned into a seizer, strangers surrounded him as he died. The remains of joshes heart died that day too. I don't think he has found a way to get it back. He never fully recovered.

Josh is now 21, he moved to Pacifica to get away from the reality of his nightmares that lye in Citrus Heights. I look back to this picture and pray that ill eventually see his smile again, I can only hope he will recover eventually.