making it sound soft and light, like air. "Joy, are you all right?" I can hear the concern in his voice.
"Yes," I respond, still mesmerized by his kiss. “Did … did I say that I’ve been kissed before?” My body, trembling, responds to him again when he bends down to kiss my cheek.
"Matthew, I need a few minutes. I … I'll be right back," I say before turning toward my room. My mind is floating in a hazy fog and I feel ashamedly disoriented. "Conrad," I call out, my voice shaking, and within seconds, he’s at my side. "Bedroom," I whisper. He immediately guides me to my room where I shut the door, closing Matthew out until I can regroup and wrap my mind around what just happened, more specifically, my reaction to what just happened.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, rocking back and forth, I relive that moment as my fingers trace my lips. I can still feel the sensation of having him touch me there. Did I actually float three feet above the ground during that kiss? I giggle at that thought because that's certainly what it felt like. I can undoubtedly say that that was my first kiss, and I'm glad it was with Matthew.
"Joy?" I can hear concern in his voice.
"Come in." I straighten up, hoping I look more composed than I feel.
"Are you all right?" he asks in a rush.
"Yes, I’m fine," I reassure him, fiddling with my fingers. I’m so embarrassed. "I guess you could say that was my first real kiss and I don't think I handled it very well. I was a little overwhelmed," I confess. Taking my hand, he softly strokes along my fingers.
"I think you handled it beautifully, and I'm honored that I was your first," he says quietly. His brow touches the side of my head, as he runs his finger across my jaw, down to my chin. He tugs my face toward him again and gives me a chaste kiss, not as intense as the first one, but just as sweet.
"How about that glass of wine and then we'll leave for Maddie's," he suggests, as he softly strokes my bottom lip. He’s so close to my face, I can feel his warm breath against my cheek.
"All right," I reply in a whisper. Holding my hand out to him, he takes it and turns it over, placing a kiss in the center of my palm.
Matthew guides me to the living room and tells me to have a seat on the couch and a few moments later, he places a glass of wine in my hand.
"May I propose a toast?" he asks, sitting down close to me.
"You may," I say lightheartedly.
"Here's to our first date and to many more firsts." He touches his glass to mine and I smile, taking a sip.
"Mmm. Sauvignon Blanc," I say. "My favorite."
"Very good, Joy. I'm impressed," he says, sounding sincerely surprised. I smile at him, raising my glass to him before taking another sip.
"So, tell me something about yourself. Something that makes you happy." I feel him sitting back against the couch, and I turn my body toward him.
"Well, let's see," I contemplate while tugging on my bottom lip between my fingers. He takes my wrist, pulling my hand away, and then gently runs his thumb across my mouth.
"I had a fairly normal childhood. My parents were good people. They loved each other; that I remember. They were always touching each other. I miss them terribly. After the accident, I struggled for a few years. My grandmother helped me adjust. I learned a lot from her."
I stop to remember some of the things she would say to me when I got to feeling sorry for myself.
"She taught me self-acceptance and the ability to love myself and others, even when they were cruel with the situation I found myself in. She taught me to see with my heart, and that sometimes we tend to forget that people have goodness inside of them, and that most sighted people judge the outward appearances before getting to know the goodness inside."
"Very sound advice," Matthew says, running his finger up and down my arm.
"That's how I know you have goodness inside you, Matthew. You have a good soul."
"So do you," he replies softly.
"What about you? Tell me something
"Yes," I respond, still mesmerized by his kiss. “Did … did I say that I’ve been kissed before?” My body, trembling, responds to him again when he bends down to kiss my cheek.
"Matthew, I need a few minutes. I … I'll be right back," I say before turning toward my room. My mind is floating in a hazy fog and I feel ashamedly disoriented. "Conrad," I call out, my voice shaking, and within seconds, he’s at my side. "Bedroom," I whisper. He immediately guides me to my room where I shut the door, closing Matthew out until I can regroup and wrap my mind around what just happened, more specifically, my reaction to what just happened.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, rocking back and forth, I relive that moment as my fingers trace my lips. I can still feel the sensation of having him touch me there. Did I actually float three feet above the ground during that kiss? I giggle at that thought because that's certainly what it felt like. I can undoubtedly say that that was my first kiss, and I'm glad it was with Matthew.
"Joy?" I can hear concern in his voice.
"Come in." I straighten up, hoping I look more composed than I feel.
"Are you all right?" he asks in a rush.
"Yes, I’m fine," I reassure him, fiddling with my fingers. I’m so embarrassed. "I guess you could say that was my first real kiss and I don't think I handled it very well. I was a little overwhelmed," I confess. Taking my hand, he softly strokes along my fingers.
"I think you handled it beautifully, and I'm honored that I was your first," he says quietly. His brow touches the side of my head, as he runs his finger across my jaw, down to my chin. He tugs my face toward him again and gives me a chaste kiss, not as intense as the first one, but just as sweet.
"How about that glass of wine and then we'll leave for Maddie's," he suggests, as he softly strokes my bottom lip. He’s so close to my face, I can feel his warm breath against my cheek.
"All right," I reply in a whisper. Holding my hand out to him, he takes it and turns it over, placing a kiss in the center of my palm.
Matthew guides me to the living room and tells me to have a seat on the couch and a few moments later, he places a glass of wine in my hand.
"May I propose a toast?" he asks, sitting down close to me.
"You may," I say lightheartedly.
"Here's to our first date and to many more firsts." He touches his glass to mine and I smile, taking a sip.
"Mmm. Sauvignon Blanc," I say. "My favorite."
"Very good, Joy. I'm impressed," he says, sounding sincerely surprised. I smile at him, raising my glass to him before taking another sip.
"So, tell me something about yourself. Something that makes you happy." I feel him sitting back against the couch, and I turn my body toward him.
"Well, let's see," I contemplate while tugging on my bottom lip between my fingers. He takes my wrist, pulling my hand away, and then gently runs his thumb across my mouth.
"I had a fairly normal childhood. My parents were good people. They loved each other; that I remember. They were always touching each other. I miss them terribly. After the accident, I struggled for a few years. My grandmother helped me adjust. I learned a lot from her."
I stop to remember some of the things she would say to me when I got to feeling sorry for myself.
"She taught me self-acceptance and the ability to love myself and others, even when they were cruel with the situation I found myself in. She taught me to see with my heart, and that sometimes we tend to forget that people have goodness inside of them, and that most sighted people judge the outward appearances before getting to know the goodness inside."
"Very sound advice," Matthew says, running his finger up and down my arm.
"That's how I know you have goodness inside you, Matthew. You have a good soul."
"So do you," he replies softly.
"What about you? Tell me something
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