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       The Last Kiss

      First kisses are the ones that everybody celebrates, the ones you remember. The ones you treasure as it happens, storing in your memory to take out and relive at any given moment.

      But what about the last kiss?

      Do you even remember them?

      Sometimes the relationship has faded away, so that the last kiss becomes like a blurred faded Polaroid, bleached in the sun. Other times it’s wrenched from you when the relationship implodes, leaving a gaping hole. That last kiss turns into a negative photo of a relationship you once believed in, but are no longer sure if any of it was real.

      And then there are those last kisses salted by unshed tears.

      He grasped my fingers and played with them as we waited for the flight to be called. I wished now that he hadn’t come to the airport with me. That we had said our goodbyes at the hotel, the place where our small but perfectly formed affair was born and lived so briefly. It was where it should have ended. But neither of us could bear to be parted until we had to. We were clinging to the hope that somehow we could make this work.