MY First Kiss
Some memories don't fade with time.
They stay… quietly… like a song you didn't know you memorized.
Her name was Arisha.
And this is the story of the first time I kissed her.
I met Arisha on a winter morning.
It was one of those days when the air feels lighter, and everything seems a little slower than usual. I was late for class—as always—rushing through the college corridor when I accidentally bumped into someone.
Books fell.
Time stopped.
And there she was.
"Sorry!" I said quickly, kneeling down to pick up her books.
"It's okay," she replied softly.
But when I looked up…
I forgot what I was about to say next.
Because her eyes held something I couldn't explain.
Something calm… yet dangerous.
Her full name was Arisha Rahman.
She was quiet, intelligent, and the kind of girl who didn't try to be noticed—but somehow, everyone noticed her anyway.
Especially me.
Days turned into weeks.
And somehow, we kept crossing paths.
Library.
Cafeteria.
Stairs.
It almost felt planned.
But it wasn't.
Or maybe… it was something else.
We started talking after that accident.
Small talks at first.
"Did you finish the assignment?"
"Which class do you have next?"
"Why are you always late?"
That last question always came with a teasing smile.
And I always replied the same way—
"Maybe I'm waiting to bump into you again."
She would roll her eyes.
But she never stopped smiling.
Arisha wasn't like anyone I had ever met.
She didn't talk much, but when she did… it mattered.
She didn't laugh loudly, but when she smiled… it stayed.
And slowly…
Without even realizing it…
She became my favorite part of every day.
One evening, we stayed back after class.
The campus was almost empty.
The sky had turned orange, and the wind carried that soft, quiet feeling that comes before night.
We sat on the stairs.
Not talking.
Just… being there.
"Do you believe in timing?" she suddenly asked.
I looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
"Like… meeting the right person at the wrong time."
I stayed silent for a moment.
Then I said—
"I think… if it's the right person, time won't matter."
She looked away.
And for the first time…
I saw uncertainty in her eyes.
Things changed after that day.
Not in a bad way.
Just… deeper.
Our conversations became longer.
Our silences became more comfortable.
And our hearts…
Closer.
But life isn't always kind to love stories.
Arisha had a truth she couldn't escape.
Her family had already decided her future.
And I…
Wasn't part of it.
She told me one night.
Over a phone call.
Her voice was steady.
But I could hear the pain between every word.
"I don't have a choice."
I didn't know what to say.
Because sometimes…
Love isn't enough.
We stopped meeting as often.
Then… we stopped completely.
No fights.
No drama.
Just distance.
The kind that slowly breaks you without making a sound.
Weeks later…
I got a message.
"Can we meet? One last time."
My heart skipped a beat.
I typed back immediately—
"Where?"
We met at the rooftop of our college.
It was late evening.
The sky was dark, and the city lights had started to glow.
She was standing near the edge.
Looking at the horizon.
"You came," she said.
"Of course," I replied.
"How could I not?"
There was so much to say.
But we said nothing.
Because sometimes…
Words just get in the way.
"I'm leaving next week," she finally said.
The words hit harder than I expected.
"Abroad?"
She nodded.
"For good."
I looked away.
Because I didn't want her to see my eyes.
Not like that.
"I didn't want to go without seeing you," she added.
"And I didn't want to let you go without stopping you," I replied.
She laughed softly.
"Still trying to be the hero?"
"Only for you."
Silence again.
But this time…
It was heavier.
"Can I ask you something?" she said.
"Anything."
"Will you forget me?"
I smiled faintly.
"Try me."
She stepped closer.
Closer than ever before.
And suddenly…
Everything felt real.
Too real.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
"Of what?"
"Of remembering this moment forever."
I looked into her eyes.
"Then make it worth remembering."
Her hand slowly reached for mine.
Warm.
Soft.
Familiar.
The wind blew gently.
The city lights flickered below.
And for a moment…
It felt like the world had paused just for us.
She moved closer.
I didn't move.
Not because I was afraid.
But because I didn't want to rush something that mattered this much.
"Can I…?" she started.
I didn't let her finish.
Instead…
I gently held her face.
And in that quiet, fragile moment—
I kissed her.
It wasn't rushed.
It wasn't intense.
It was soft.
Slow.
And filled with everything we never got to say.
That kiss carried every laugh.
Every conversation.
Every moment we shared.
And every moment we never would.
When we pulled away…
She rested her forehead against mine.
And for the first time…
She cried.
"I wish things were different," she whispered.
"So do I," I replied.
"But I don't regret this," she said.
"Neither do I."
We stayed like that for a while.
Holding onto a moment we knew we couldn't keep.
That night…
We didn't say goodbye.
Because some goodbyes are too heavy to say out loud.
She left.
And I stayed.
But that kiss…
It never left me.
Even now, when I stand on rooftops and look at the city lights…
I don't feel alone.
I feel her.
Because some love stories don't last forever.
But one moment…
One kiss…
Can last a lifetime.
And that…
Was my first kiss.
To be continued...