A late gin-o'clock and a crazy day at work leaves me shattered but grinning at many events of the past intense two weeks, tonight. Ridiculous meetings about meetings, the totally worst boring wastes of time that I look back on already and laugh about, and couldn't give a flying toss about (unofficially, of course and certainly not at the time... COUGH); gossip and rumours and insecurities and drunken late nights and mad friends and the really, really best part I am just dying to go on and on about is: the kissing...
Kissing still for me, like a 16 year old innocent, is the best part of the whole everything we know as anything between two people. Kissing someone you fancy, obviously, although I have been known to kiss indiscriminately sometimes (a sort of experiment?), the best part and also the most perfect part. Kissing someone you fancy like mad, the best sort, even more perfect, and the only sort worth actually mentioning and where the chemistry of it is an equation no-one really ever need analyse further. So I should stop. But kissing someone you fancy like mad and have fancied for enough time without kissing them for it to feel like eternity, but probably in reality is only a few weeks, months, years?: priceless. It doesn't get any better. Ever. Apart from more of it with the same person, but still, that first, why am I still talking to you and why aren't we kissing conundrum, which ever-so-eventually may or may not lead to the wow we are kissing inner dialogue, may never ever be as good again, or even happen again. In fact, regardless: relationship and situation or Relationship and Situation, it's probably all completely and utterly a downward spiral, and it should really just be left right there, (left, right?) before... well, before anything at all negative happens whatsoever. And I would still be extremely happy, if a little sad. Happy, sad? Which doesn't make a lot of sense, which is why kissing, by itself, needing no emotional framework but mutual desire, is completely the best of all worlds for all people right there, right then; just the right amount of this could go anywhere else or stay right here and it's all fooking marvellous.
Because at some point recently, I was kissing someone I have liked for ages, and at some point recently I was thinking wow, I am kissing [this person]. And for days afterwards I have been thinking wow we kissed and remembering and re-kissing in my head, and trying to recall every detail and not really being able to and just recalling the feeling. Because for ages before that, I had looked at him talking to me and drifted off thinking, I wonder what it feels like to kiss him, and I wonder if he will kiss me, and, one night, I dreamt about it and thought it was real, and then, blimey it's been ages, why on earth aren't we kissing?
And now, I am happy.
Until next week, or some horrible time in the future where everything I just said fades away, and things have happened, or not happened, and our perfect spot of kissing becomes not enough, or I'm told I'm, ridiculously for my age, way too affected and pathetically teenage about one tiny not-even-night of a few kisses, or kiss-obsessed by at least one person, and I have to remember I'm not 16 or innocent and kissing Doesn't Officially Mean Anything, Sarah, and I have to be grown up about it and act like it really didn't mean anything to me either, and agree that it was good but that's it, and the most beautiful part of life gets filed away in the annals of yeah that was amazing to kiss him but..... other stuff happens or happened or well it was a long time ago.
But I'm not there yet.
Happy minutes. All you need, really.
Kissing still for me, like a 16 year old innocent, is the best part of the whole everything we know as anything between two people. Kissing someone you fancy, obviously, although I have been known to kiss indiscriminately sometimes (a sort of experiment?), the best part and also the most perfect part. Kissing someone you fancy like mad, the best sort, even more perfect, and the only sort worth actually mentioning and where the chemistry of it is an equation no-one really ever need analyse further. So I should stop. But kissing someone you fancy like mad and have fancied for enough time without kissing them for it to feel like eternity, but probably in reality is only a few weeks, months, years?: priceless. It doesn't get any better. Ever. Apart from more of it with the same person, but still, that first, why am I still talking to you and why aren't we kissing conundrum, which ever-so-eventually may or may not lead to the wow we are kissing inner dialogue, may never ever be as good again, or even happen again. In fact, regardless: relationship and situation or Relationship and Situation, it's probably all completely and utterly a downward spiral, and it should really just be left right there, (left, right?) before... well, before anything at all negative happens whatsoever. And I would still be extremely happy, if a little sad. Happy, sad? Which doesn't make a lot of sense, which is why kissing, by itself, needing no emotional framework but mutual desire, is completely the best of all worlds for all people right there, right then; just the right amount of this could go anywhere else or stay right here and it's all fooking marvellous.
Because at some point recently, I was kissing someone I have liked for ages, and at some point recently I was thinking wow, I am kissing [this person]. And for days afterwards I have been thinking wow we kissed and remembering and re-kissing in my head, and trying to recall every detail and not really being able to and just recalling the feeling. Because for ages before that, I had looked at him talking to me and drifted off thinking, I wonder what it feels like to kiss him, and I wonder if he will kiss me, and, one night, I dreamt about it and thought it was real, and then, blimey it's been ages, why on earth aren't we kissing?
And now, I am happy.
Until next week, or some horrible time in the future where everything I just said fades away, and things have happened, or not happened, and our perfect spot of kissing becomes not enough, or I'm told I'm, ridiculously for my age, way too affected and pathetically teenage about one tiny not-even-night of a few kisses, or kiss-obsessed by at least one person, and I have to remember I'm not 16 or innocent and kissing Doesn't Officially Mean Anything, Sarah, and I have to be grown up about it and act like it really didn't mean anything to me either, and agree that it was good but that's it, and the most beautiful part of life gets filed away in the annals of yeah that was amazing to kiss him but..... other stuff happens or happened or well it was a long time ago.
But I'm not there yet.
Happy minutes. All you need, really.
Kissing is utterly fabulous and often better than actual sex (although I think kissing is actually part of sex, usually) and that's a lovely way of describing the delight of it. I woulnd't worry about anyone telling you it "doesn't mean anything"--of course it means a lot!
ReplyDeleteGood luck...hope you can repeat it soon.