300 Writing Prompts in 30 Min Forum Prompt#2: Campfire Memory

Prompt #2: Write a memory you have related to a campfire.

My father was sick in the hospital. He had been sick for quite some time, and was at the ending stages of his life. My aunt was now my mother, and she planned a camping trip with friends of hers. I was a young teen, a tomboy, a growing girl. I met him there, Charles, we sat by the fire, we swam, we kissed. My first kiss.

My last memory relating a campfire was when I was still 16 (I’m 27 now) and was very inexperienced with girls. It was more than 10 years ago but it’s still a bit fresh in my mind  because I remember how embarrassing I was when it comes to girls. I think I still suck with girls at this age. But I think I’m a lot better now?
It was a family camping trip and some of my relatives invited some of their close friends. Their close friends had daughters same age as me.
Yea, that thought alone made me shiver during that time?
Why?
Because I know my family will poke fun trying to pair me up with the young girls.
As a kid, I hated that. I was so shy back then and my family forcing me to meet girls weren’t helping.
The daughter’s name was Nicole. She was half German, half Filipino and I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
Not only she was hot but she was really friendly and outgoing as well. She was the exact opposite as me - an introvert.
But because of my family, I was pushed to hang out with her. I walked insider her tent and I didn’t know what to do. I don’t even know if I introduced my self.
There were a few other kids and they were having fun doing something. Me on the other hand, was just there and thinking to myself “Why am I even here?”
Because I felt useless and dumb sitting in the corner of the tent, I just walked out. What’s funny is that no one of this kids really cared.
I left the tent and while I was walking and thinking how unfun it was to stay in the tent, I still had feelings for the girl.
It’s so hard being a kid. You have so much emotions and you don’t know how to express them.
The next day she was just walking near a tree with her female friend and I thought of impressing the German princess.
I climbed up the tree, as if I’m Tarzan. I stood up a sturdy tree branch, stayed in that position and pretended to be this some sort of Herculean confident warrior looking over the seas thinking of what island to conquer next.
One of my crazy uncle’s shouted:
“Look at Tucker! That’s how he attracts girls! Get em tiger!”
All my relatives laughed and I slowly climbed down the tree like a loser.
I was just trying to impress the girl of how strong I was by climbing tall trees.
That was an embarrassing moment for me. I didn’t know how to attract girls back then. But now that I’m older and wiser, I should have done things differently.
I should have climbed a taller, more dangerous-looking tree.

Everything was humming with the last days of our youth, the sunset blazing particularly bright over the trees, the laughter just melodious and bright and loud enough, the scent of burning marshmallows and lake-soaked clothes and brittle, golden grass and that inescapable scent of aftershave and lilacs, for me, at least, oh, it was all remarkable. The fire crackled and the lines we had determined- geek, athlete, theatre kid, loner- blurred and faded as we all crowded together, hundreds of skewers around one bright, perfect-summer-day, beautiful campfire. 

Most of the memories I have related to campfire involve my ex-husband. We spent many years together and camping was a very important part of his identity. I can’t say that I am particularly impartial to the outdoors, bugs, sleeping on the ground or not being near regular hygiene facilities. I had never experienced camping before we were together, but I’ve always enjoyed new challenges. As we began to have children and invite our children to experience camping it became an entirely different experience. No longer was I as concerned with my own hang ups regarding the outdoors. I never wanted my own experiences or fears to become a problem for my children. I took a deep breath and helped my kids navigate the outdoors and all that it had to offer. One great memory for me was showing my kids how to roast marshmallows over the fire pit. I wasn’t particularly good at it but I did a good job of pretending. I sat near the fire pit, despite the heat, the wind and the bugs. The marshmallow burned to a black crisp and my daughter found it to be the most hilarious thing. We scraped it off on the pit and started again. We went through half a bag of marshmallows before we successfully made a single golden melt. We slide it off onto a graham cracker then covered it with Hershey’s chocolate pieces and an additional graham cracker. My daughter enjoyed that first melt tremendously and she was so proud of herself. You would have believed she did it all herself. That is one of my happiest memories and it was around a campfire.