I had a special, golden summer once; the summer after my breast reduction and before I got the faulty news that I wouldn’t have sex. This funny, carefree, happy summer where I looked like everyone else, I spoke like everyone else, and it felt like the issues I had faced were finally behind me.

It was a magical time. I had returned to a beloved summer job; being a camp councilor at a children’s summer camp back east. It was the summer I had my first kiss.

The camp was staffed, not only by Americans but by British, Scottish, Irish, and Aussies that traveled to work in the US for a summer and spend some time thereafter traveling.

If you walked down camp road until you reached the main street, and turned right, you could walk for about 15 minutes and find a small bar across the street; The Warwick Tavern, which we lovingly called "The Wick"

Each night, one staff member from each cabin would stay with the sleeping children; the other 2 staff members were then off for a few hours until the 11:00 curfew. Often, on the nights we were given off, we’d head down to The Wick for a drink and some bar food – always a preferable alternative to camp food.

One night, I was ready to leave the pub before most people, and an Irish boy named Mark and I ended up leaving alone to head back to the camp. I have no recollection of if this was subtly arranged by one of us, or simply a coincidence.

Mark was a good looking boy, with a charming Irish brogue, who always had a little swagger about him. At some point, during our walk, I suppose I made the decision that I wanted to be kissed. I was already starting my romantic life late, and I felt it was time to begin.

I wasn’t sure what to do; what signals or words were needed… so finally, as we walked, I simply reached over quietly, and placed my hand in his.

He pretended it hadn’t happened, except to tighten his hand a bit around mine in return. I was still unsure if the message had been received, until we reached the point where the entrance to camp road was directly across the street from us; and he overshot it and continued walking. I was now in uncharted territory, with no idea what would happen next. I wasn’t nervous, or overly excited; I just felt… curious and open.

A few moments later, still holding his hand, he rushed us across the street. The camp road was now to our left, and we were on the grounds of a local tech school, who’s boundaries ran up against the camp. I knew from my years at camp there were two places couples could go to try to be alone; the golf course that ran up the other side of the camp, or the "tech field"; the land owned by the technical school; and we had now officially arrived in the tech field.

My most fond memory of that evening I think was that as we walked, he smoothly leaned down, never letting go of my hand or slowing his stride, and used his other hand to brush through the grass. I knew he was making sure it was dry; it was such a practiced move, and it made me smile a bit in the dark.

As we reached one of the darkest portions of the field, our walking slowed, and we stopped to lay on the grass and "talk". The talking lasted for a short time, and then in one smooth, sudden move he flipped over and with that; he was laying on top of me, smiling down.

He was too close; I didn’t know how to react or what to do, and I managed to stammer out a few apologetic words that I hadn’t done this before. He cheerfully responded that he didn’t care.  Without saying another word, he leaned down and kissed me.

Looking back, it was a very tame little session. I would guess that it lasted about 15 to 20 minutes, no clothes were removed… it was just kissing. Over and over again.

We finally got up and headed back as to not miss curfew. As we walked, he leaned down and whispered to me quietly, "Your ears are the most sensitive part of your body". I had already figured that out for myself but I was impressed that he had noticed.

I repaid him for this evening by becoming overly embarrassed and not speaking to him for the rest of the summer.

Shortly thereafter, I saw the OBGYN, got the news, and the experiences of that summer never repeated themselves.

Now I wonder; everything is behind me – I’m back to where I was that perfect summer. I look like everyone else, speak like everyone else, and can relate physically like everyone else. This time, the problems really are over. The summer can simply continue forever.

So I muse to myself as I head to bed; are there still as many possibilities, or did some deteriorate with age? Am I still able to decide what I want the way that I did that night and just go after it?

And most importantly; is it still so simple that all I have to do is put my hand into theirs when I want to be kissed?