Son, if you assumed that my first kiss lifted Erica’s curse and that my only task ahead was discovering who I would be lucky enough to kiss forever and ever and ever again, and then, also, of course, that I would never ever cry or suffer the stomach ache pang of loneliness that is so common to all in its ability to convince everyone that they alone are the absolute only one who feels so awkward, so unwanted, so alone… or at minimum, maybe, I’d be free of the fear that the next time a girl grinned and leaned in with her lips puckered and her eyes shut that I would boldly hold her head in my hands and tickle her tongue with my tongue and wouldn’t ever, ever, ever worry, because not yet job interviewing, not yet dressing to impress, not yet aware of the maxim that past performance predicts future dumbness so why even bother because I’d only ever be doomed to fail over and over again, even if this time I didn’t attempt a kiss in front of everyone?