“I’m not a kiss whore…”
Laughter…, “Whatever – it seems like every time you go, you kiss someone(!).”
“Yeah: all two times, I kissed one person each time.”
Both laugh, totally tickled.
This was near the end of my conversation tonight with my mom.
I had been telling her about my day at the Texas Renaissance Festival (RenFest) with a semi-friend today (we worked together briefly, and have always gotten along and talked forever whenever our paths have crossed), and had just shared with her the most delightful part of the day for me.
You see, a long while back, perhaps two years ago – long being relative, obviously – I met someone who really attracted me while at RenFest.
It wasn’t so much sexual attraction – I want to date you attraction – as it was simply attraction – I want to be around you attraction.
He had mentioned specifically about a possibility of our becoming friends, if I would like, and I agreed, and we met up to pursue this… so I thought, anyway.
And, when he received multiple calls in a row, and I encouraged him to take the call, and he answered with, “What’s up? I’m on a date,” I chuckled at his obvious use of the term in order to get the person to hurry up and leave him alone.
At the end, when he asked if it were okay to kiss me, therefore, I was thrown – and I mean really thrown… I denied the request, and then felt really uncomfortable and mean and a bit weird… and for a while… I felt justified in giving my honest answer that I did not feel comfortable kissing him or letting him kiss me, but I still felt weird and, somehow, bad for the following year or so, give or take, off and on.
(See my comment about the meeting here, embedded within a conversation with someone else.)
He came to mind somewhat often, though we only swapped messages a handful of times again.
I thought of him whenever I was going to or at RenFest, but somehow missed him – whether by accidental forgetfulness or intentional avoidance (my own, I mean), I am not entirely sure.
But I didn’t see him again.
That is, I didn’t see him again until today.
Remember how I have had this whole beautiful transformation happening within and without me this past year+.
Well, that gave me a whole new experience of the idea of this guy when I considered him today.
Suddenly, it was clear to me that I wanted specifically to go talk to him, to clarify with him what had happened for me back on that date I hadn’t known to be a date, to find out how and a little bit of what he was doing now – still the art, and, of so, what? – and to request and to receive a kiss from him.
Perhaps the kiss last week ha some revved up, but I truly believe that it at least made things clear for me in a way they had never been before: a kiss was a kiss, and it is okay to want to kiss someone.
And it is okay to want not to kiss someone.
(And, of course, not to want to kiss someone is okay, too!)
Who I am now wanted to kiss him.
Who I was two years ago couldn’t and didn’t want to kiss him then.
I wasn’t certain about the kiss today until I started talking with him, but I was at about 90% certainty before I even saw him.
I just couldn’t seem to stop smiling while talking with him – I almost felt like my cheeks were growing red with the constant huge smiling I was doing.
(Fortunately, my teeth look amazing now, thanks to my invisible aligners from Smile Direct Club, and I smile almost all the time now, anyway.)
I wanted to complete that circle of events from our afternoon spent together… and I also wanted to kiss this man for the sake of kissing him.
And so, as we were nearing the end of our conversation, and I was letting him know that I’d bring him omiyage from my upcoming Japan trip, and we could meet up in January, I had a final analysis of the question and determined wholeheartedly that I wanted it: “Could I have a kiss?” I asked.
I had already told him all about our unknown date and my thoughts at the end, and he had assured me that he was not offended and that all was well, and so, ‘Of course,’ was his reply to my single additional comment regarding ‘making up for before’.
And he stepped and leaned forward toward me, and we kissed(!).
Hard and whole, and 100% consensual on both sides.
And I almost felt like giggling with laughter in delight at both the fun of and the absurdity of the situation, as well as the fact that I JUST KISSED A BOY!!!! AND I LIKED IT!!!
(Thanks, Katy Perry.)
I smiled gargantuously* (yet again), reiterated my plans to reach out and on omiyage, and wished him farewell, and then he wished me the same.
It was lovely.
And I couldn’t seem to stop smoking for quite a while afterward.
He had offered to me to try out being friends again, and also offered a date again, if I were interested.
I told him that I’d think about the date part, but that the friend go was a definite.
And I felt amazingly self-expressed and confident in myself on more levels than I could count and identify.
Yes, it was lovely.
I have come so far.
It is amazing.
I am amazing.
But I am still not a kiss whore, just FYI.