Do you remember your first love? I do. James Vincent McMorrow croons about the memory of a first love in the song Cavalier. Cat Stevens points out that, “the first cut is the deepest” in reference to someone trying to get over a previous relationship.
Do you remember your first kiss? I don’t remember the first, but there are a few that remain vivid in my memory.
Standing in my childhood room, I can still feel the heat on my cheeks bleeding through in eczema-framed blotches like a Rorschach test. My parents calling us downstairs attune to the energy being released by that meeting of lips.
Standing in the doorway of a ramshackle apartment building in Mongolia, breath still warm from sipping tea. I kissed my wife to be for the first time. We have kissed a thousand times since but I remember that kiss.
My desire to tap into stories of “firsts” comes from the curiosity of my own memory, the deep cuts that have stayed with me and why. Our memory works in mysterious ways. Why do I remember my first kiss and none of those that follow?
My desires for FDNP are for you to reach into the vault, explore what is in there and ponder why it made the cut.