I miss kissing. I didn’t think that I did. I’ve managed to entertain the concept of relationships and explore options all without kissing.  Even in some of my more significant relationships kissing wasn’t necessarily a ‘thing’. This morning on the deck, I realize I miss kissing.

For much of my younger days of exploration kissing was how I figured out if I wanted to fuck you.  A bad kiss made it unlikely.  A decent kiss or a good kiss got my clothes off.  I wasn’t necessarily as in tune with my arousal, and my needs, and how to get from point A to point 69 without kissing.

I hadn’t yet figured out how to do the dance of I wanna sex you up  without kissing.  In my defense, it’s what we think we are supposed to do.  It’s all we see on the television, read in novels, hear on the radio – kissing.

While I am not unhappy with my progress which allows me to do more  and different than kiss to get me to the point of intercourse, kissing is nice. It’s better than nice actually.

I’m not one of those girls who thinks that kissing is more intimate than other things I do.  When I look at the list of things I do, kissing ain’t all that intimate. It can also be a little boring. That stands even if the person you are kissing is good at it and you like kissing them, there are things I do sexually which are quadruple PhD level skill set, and kissing is 5th grade English.

I saw August 4 last night. I didn’t realize it’d been five years. While he doesn’t make my heart leap into my throat like The Man does, his skill set should be acknowledged. If you got to see me last night at the munch then you’d better understand.  Some of you have seen me smile.  I don’t mean those photos, moments of me sealed for future vizion. I mean some of you have been in my presence and seen a genuine smile on my face.  You’ve heard laughter from me unfiltered by anything else. Last night, you got to see it.  You also got to see me slay in that dress, minus the heels unfortunately, but you got to see me slay regardless.

Someone who can make me smile that way needs to be acknowledged.

He left us early, and I walked him out.

In those moments “alone” on the street, I was reminded of everything that I’ve missed, including kissing.

I’m typing and sipping coffee and waiting for my instruction from him.

I’m thankful in many ways for this weekend.  I’m going to have the experiences which I need, in ways I need them which history has shown me can propel and sustain me in ways I didn’t dream were possible. I just have to give myself permission to experience this more often.  Every five years just ain’t gonna cut it anymore.

 

Aphrodite Brown