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The Best Kiss On Saturday I had the best kiss of my entire life. It was different from any kiss I've ever experienced. It was full of passion: not physical passion, but emotional passion. It encompassed my entire body and his, as if every point of contact on our skin was a point of fusion between our souls. His right arm was tight around my waist, hand pressed flat against the curve of my lower back. His left arm enfolded my shoulder, his hand clutching at the back of my hair, tying it between his fingers and caressing the back of my head. We were pressed so tightly together it was as if he was trying to absorb my body into his, to melt and meld into a single entity, to have no space between us ever again. His lips pressed into mine, his face, his forehead. I felt him desperately trying to breathe me, drink me in, swallow me whole and absorb every particle of my being. At times I couldn't breathe and I just didn't care; I don't near air, all I need is him. It went on forever, which was just long enough.I knew what he was thinking; I knew what the kiss meant. He was telling me that he's ready. I've known for a long time that he's the one for me, but I wasn't yet ready. Now he knows too, and we're both ready. We started out sitting, we ended up laying side by side, me face up, him face down. Even though I knew, I wanted him to say it. I wanted the words too. He has trouble expressing what he's feeling and that makes every word even more precious. "What are you thinking?" I asked. He looked so serious, trying to find the right words. I watched the little crinkle that he gets between his eyebrows when he's concentrating on working through thought to words. He lightly traced my right eyebrow with his finger, focusing on its shape. "You're wonderful�You're so good to me." My stomach did a slow flip and landed on butterflies. A while later he said, "I just want to stay here." Exactly how I felt, and we did. We stayed together on the futon; the same futon where he had tried to make an ending on that terrible night eight months ago. I had refused to let him go, but had given him space to figure out what he wanted, why he felt the way he felt. We discovered that he had been driven by pressure to marry and confusion about what he wanted, among other things. We both found a way past the pressure and through the confusion and pain and tears to where we spent the day together, laughing, kissing, talking, eating, touching, cuddling and watching movies together, never more that a few feet apart. And now thinking about him, where we are and our future, for the first time I feel steady, grounded, certain, relaxed, and at peace. I feel loved. Surrounded by love, as I have never quite been before. I'm safe. I'm home. I'm ready. 2003-12-01 || 12:40 p.m. |
