Oh man, remembering the dates of first kisses or any relationship anniversary for that matter has never really been my strong suit. I don’t know why, I guess I just never think to commit that kind of stuff to some type of memory timeline. Anyway, the one date I do remember is April 13, 2001. Ten years ago today… The first time that Nate and I kissed, and I suppose the beginning of our journey together. It was that Friday during the riots, which is probably why I remember the date. The third night of the city-wide curfew.

Earlier that day, I was hanging out drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes with the crew at Sitwells. Nate stopped by and asked if I wanted to go for a ride. Hell, why not, right? So he waited out front in his truck while I paid my bill. As I was jumping into the truck, I looked up at him and he had this huge smile on his face. We turned the corner onto Telford and he stopped in the middle of the street and said “So, can I kiss you?”… I laughed. Then thought for a minute. Then said “Yeah, I guess”.

(go figure)
Anyway, so we kissed for a minute and then he just sat back and stared at me. I had no idea what just happened, it was kinda out of the blue as far as I was concerned. A car behind us starting honking, but it didn’t seem to phase him so I said “Nate…drive”. Nate being Nate just says “I don’t give a fuck.” Then kisses me again.

Me and Nate miserably sun poisoned, camping on Lake Cumberland.