She kissed him in the rain. She pressed up against him, against the outside of her car door on the dark road. A streetlight glowed somewhere but she couldn’t see it because her eyes were closed. She heard only the rain. She felt only his soft lips against hers. It was their first kiss, their last kiss, their only kiss.
“I can’t stay,” he told her earlier. He was leaving the next day for some far away place like Zimbabwe or Baghdad. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was he couldn’t stay. She kissed him in the rain to forget. To forget she would never see his face again. To forget she would never feel his eyes pierce through her own eyes again. To forget she would never hear his voice again. To forget she would never feel his heart beat again like it was now as he pressed back against her, against her car door, in the rain. The rain mixed with her tears but she kept kissing him. She wanted to stop but she couldn’t. The rain kept falling, they kept kissing. Their hair stuck to their faces like overcooked spaghetti strands, their wet clothes stuck to their bodies like some bizarre version of wetsuits. Their first kiss, their last kiss, their only kiss.
Years later she would remember the kiss, every time it rained. She struggled to remember where he had to go. Was it Zimbabwe? Was it Baghdad? Was it somewhere less complicated? Why couldn’t he stay? She didn’t know. He never told her why he had to leave. “I want to stay,” he said, “but I don’t know if I can”. She thought she remembered a tear in his eye when he said it but she couldn’t be sure. She decided it didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered except she kissed him in the rain. Their first kiss, their last kiss, their only kiss.
MoonShine's Lunatic Ravings 