First Love's Last Kiss

November stood there, and after a few seconds took a step forward when she saw December; he beckoned her forward. Her pace was steady as she made her way forward to meet him, and hugged him when she did. They came inside and sat down on a sofa in his living room. Together they made casual conversation and paid little attention to the original reason November had come here, but then again, the only reason was really just to see him. They sat side by side, less than an inch of space between them. He stood up, to play her a song on the piano, she followed and listened. The piano was desperately out of tune, but that did not matter to them as he tried to teach her a song. November knew very little of pianos but tried to follow the movements of his hand, to follow the pattern of what he was trying to teach her. She failed but they laughed it off as they went back to sit side by side, no space between them this time.

There was a different atmosphere in the room. November ­�"who had had her arms crossed earlier­�" placed one hand on her knee, the other under her chin, elbow rested on an arm rest. December playfully poked her hand, she did the same with her pinkie finger and the game went on; it ended when their pinkie fingers met and locked together. She did not move her hand, she would not dare, she now knew what to expect of the day, it had happened once before. Her thoughts turned to why she was there; she felt isolated and need a friend to distracter from the pain and frustration that had been building onto her for so long, that was why. She thought of the secret pain that had been with her for as long as she could remember. November looked at her hand, December’s pinkie finger wrapped around her own, and she forgot the pain. Memories of happiness filled her heart, memories faint and overpowered by pain; kept in for years. The pain was worth forgetting now, for the sake of this moment.

December turned his head slightly and spoke, “would you like to go for a walk?”

November answered without thinking, “sure.”

Now wasn’t a time for thinking, which was probably where the pain came from, maybe she thought too much. They got up and left the house again with little space between them as they walked. They engaged in casual conversation again, talking about what ever came up. November knew what would happen next, she had once gone through this with December so long ago, but now, it didn’t feel like the last time was so far back in time. December did just as she predicted and he put his hand into hers, their fingers intertwined. Their conversation didn’t pause or change as he did this, she knew he would, and she let him. For some reason, she wanted December to hold her hand as he had once so long ago. She wanted to re live the moment she felt her happiest, she wanted things to fall into place as they did once before.

They came back from their short walk still hand in hand, and November had managed to keep herself from thinking too much. When they entered, they sat back down. They sat down together again, their hands intertwined, November’s head resting on December’s shoulder, her body slightly tuned toward his. Their bodies shifted, November lifted her head and they stayed seated in a more upright position, heads forward. December shifted again, he turned his head from its forward position towards November’s. December nuzzled her cheek; November let him, he lifted his head slightly, still nuzzling. In response, November started to turn her own head and their noses touched. She lifted her head slightly and December moved forward, and gently touched his lips to hers. He kissed her, and she kissed back. Their hands freed themselves; December and November held each other in a loving embrace. November remembered happiness, the memories of happiness that seemed powerless against pain, were all she could think of. Their kiss ended and December kissed her forehead, her cheek, her neck.

November thought again, as hard as she tried not to, she thought. She thought about the pain. She remembered the pain that had only been building up over the years. She thought of the last time she was really, truly happy by herself. Far off memories of young careless childhood days made themselves present, and even then she thought too much. She thought of later school days, she thought of days spent alone to think about whatever came to mind. Memories of recent pain played in her head. Love proven false, love she didn’t want to let go of but had to in the end. The people around her every day, people she hated but couldn’t escape. November felt safe now in the arms of December, and then memories of their past love flooded her mind. She was happy when she was with him, but did she want to be with him again? He took his lips back from her neck; he had gotten as far as her collar bone.

“Would you like to go to the game room?” December asked.

“Sure,” responded November.

The two of them got up and moved into the game room he mentioned. A sofa against the wall, they sat on it. An embrace and then December lied down, his legs rested on November’s lap. She thought again, she didn’t want to fall back to a relationship so soon after the end of on that seemed so right. She remembered the pain; she wanted to heal on her own. Too many times before she felt she needed another person in order to feel complete; to feel happy. Maybe it would be okay with December, maybe he really could help her find the missing pieces of her heart, and he had one in his possession already, one she knew she would never get back.

Their love was strong; it held their friendship together and maybe could be what it once was. She couldn’t help but feel she needed to heal on her own. She felt the pain of love proven false before, she didn’t want to go through it again, not so soon. She looked at December; he wore worry on his face as he stared at the ceiling, perhaps she wore the pain of thought on her own; she turned away and lost herself in thought once more. How would she tell him that she didn’t want all this? Maybe in time, she would heal with him by her side, but right now she wanted to know she could be happy again, and heal by herself. She questioned why she let things get so far, it just felt so right with him; it wasn’t the right time though if there ever would be a time. She looked at him again and he got up to sit next to her.

“I don’t know how to say this,” December stared.

“What do you mean?” November asked. Too many thoughts rushed through her head at this time. What could he possibly what to say? Her heart raced.

“It’s just… While we were hanging out, I think that’s as far as it should have gone,” he continued. November was speechless.

“It just doesn’t feel right,” he finished.

“I know what you mean,” November said. Although she thought the same thing, it still hurt when he said that. Why would he let things go so far just to tell her this? But she blamed herself too; she let things all of this happen.

“Well, I’ve got to go,” said November, maybe with a hint of pain in her voice. The two of them go up and he walked her to the door.

“Friends?” December asked with his arms held out for a hug and a smile on his face.

“Of course,” November told him, and she moved forward into his arms. The hug was short and November made her way toward the door. She was out and was on her way home, a smile on her face. She didn’t regret what had happened with December, in fact, she was glad it had happened. It showed her that happiness wasn’t just a memory, overpowered by pain, she could be happy again. At least now she could remember what happiness felt like, and it was a feeling worth looking forward to, instead of look back at in regret. Her last kiss was a happy one, and who she shared it with, will always be there for her. Most importantly, she could now try to be happy on her own.

She reached her home and started for the door, still smiling, but when she got through the door, her smile faded. She had known this feeling before, just like the last time she had spent a day like that with December, she wasn’t happy to be home. All that was there were people she didn’t get along with, things she didn’t like, routines she was tired of.

 

Later on, November found where her pain and sadness was coming from. It wasn’t a memory of happiness, or anything else in the past. Her pain was in the present; her pain was her home, not the place, but the people in it. The hurting had to stop and if she was going to stop it alone, it wasn’t going to be easy. She needed to start her life elsewhere and do it how ever she could, whenever she could. How is it that with December she always came to the conclusion that she needed to start again somewhere else, thinking that the pain wouldn’t follow? She has yet to figure it out, but she now has an idea of where the pain is coming from. Now, November is determined to end it.