I had surgery for the first time this past week. I fell a few weeks ago and broke my leg in a few places. So, what do we do when we can’t sleep due to pain? We plot to end the patriarchy!
Eh, maybe some other time.
Instead, we write.
So sit back. Relax. And read the ramblings of my mind mixed with Percocet, Ibuprofen, and cheese doodles.
Something I’ve been wanting to write about but find it hard to convey is the power of a kiss. I sometimes feel like it’s so over looked. I mean, have you ever had an amazing first kiss? The one that sucks your soul out of your lips? That when you lay in bed that night, you close your eyes and remember the other persons warm face so close to yours and you can’t help but smile? Yeah. I know you know what I’m talking about. Now, I’m not saying that every amazing first kiss leads to a relationship or that if the first kiss isn’t fireworks, you haven’t found the one. Different stokes for different folks.
But sometimes, that first kiss, with a person who before this moment, you’ve thought about attaching your lips to theirs countless times…. when it happens…stars dance, birds sing, time stops, breath is held, goosebumps emerge, sighs are heard and heart beats quicken? Oh baby. That’s some good stuff right there. And if he takes his hand and grabs the side of your face, just behind the ear? Melt worthy. IYKYK. I can think a few first kisses that to this day, that still make me smile.
There is one kiss that I remember that still makes my heart go pitter patter. I was standing outside of his car and we were talking casually about this and that and he asked me to kiss him. And it was totally unexpected, this request. And I was kind of hesitant because up to this point, there wasn’t really any kind of romantic interactions between us. Some flirting here and there, but nothing to suggest this man was interested enough he wanted to feel my lips pressed to his. And as I was about to leave, I decided, what the hell, and I leaned into his driver side window and kissed him. And it wasn’t a hot and heavy kiss. It was just sweet. Soft. A little rushed. But I swear, I went home in a fog. A sweet, giddy, butterflies in my tummy fog. And later when he asked me about it, I wasn’t sure how to answer. I was thinking he was going to just be casual about it. But his response was similar to mine. He told me how much he loved it and how he couldn’t stop thinking about it. And even though things didn’t work out between us, that memory from that kiss will be seared into my memory, probably till I die. To know that I can evoke that kind of feeling in someone else, even if it was just for a brief moment, makes me realize that magic is real. If someone can make me feel that type of magic, it helps me to stay hopeful for whoever I maybe end up kissing till the end of my days. Its this type of emotion that keeps movies being filmed, books being written and women getting pregnant. That hopeful, beautiful, chaotic, anxiety inducing feeling of a first kiss.
Now don’t me wrong. There have been other first and even second kisses that blew my mind. Kisses that turned into relationships and some that happened once and never to have happened again. Doesn’t mean that the magic wasn’t real.
Have you even been watching a movie and the scene you’re watching is so beautiful it makes you cry, even if you can’t really relate to it? Like the wizard defeating the dragon, or the pop star finally finding herself or the nerdy guy gets the girl? But the emotion of it strikes a chord. And you sit in your dark room, just the white glow from the tv on your face and you sit in the quiet moment of the feeling? And it aches inside, you feel so close to the emotion of it. I felt that last night. I was watching Slumberland. Obviously, a fantasy movie, but in the end, she was saying her final goodbye to her deceased father. Now, my dad is alive, healthy, and involved in my life. So I can’t really relate. But the story and the emotion of that moment stole my breath away. And the reason I write this now is because that’s what I am seeking from my life. Those emotions and moments that move me. That stir feelings and conversations and move my heart from stagnant pools to rushing rivers. That I will write sonnets and sing songs in the shower about. These emotions that somewhere else in the world, another person felt this way an had a the audacity and imagination to put it out there, to be shared with me at 12:23 am, with a broken leg and wet eye lashes. These kind of emotions are the little reminders that God created in me an ocean. An ocean to be poured into by not only myself but by any others who come into contact with me. It’s not a simple thing to be casual about. No one goes onto the ocean unprepared. I am not the type of girl to be ignored or cast aside. If you’re not type of person who is willing to put yourself in a boat to enjoy the waters, then our friendships or romantic relationship won’t go very far. I want to remind myself that those things I feel when watching those movies are there for a reason. The ache in my chest and the tears on my face are there because the waters that run through me are deep and lovely. I am not silly or pathetic because I want the best. I am strong and courageous for not accepting less than what I need. From anyone. Friend, family, stranger, or lover.
So things like good conversations, inside jokes, effort, and even first kisses mean a lot to me. They mean a lot cause they sooth the soft, hurt spots in me. Things I hide, things I am caring for, things that need healing, or things I am insecure about. Maybe even things I’m not aware about myself. They bring the richness out. When you’re taking selfies with your friends, or screaming at them to run faster around the bases of your kickball game, or giving a good cheers to good times with shots of fireball, or crying in your car cause someone broke your heart. These moments are the small binding agents that hold our relationships together. So seek people who don’t mind climbing in the boat to cross your ocean. Seek people who bring you coffee and give you rides when your leg is broken. Seek people who cry at the same parts as you in movies and want good things for you. And seek partners that text you after your first kiss to tell you that it was an amazing first kiss for them also. Cause I know, if I had told him anything less than how special that kiss was for me, it would of dulled the sparkle for him. I can only hope that when he looks back at the night, sees me standing outside his driver side window, knowing he’s going to ask me to kiss him, not knowing how profoundly impactful it would be on my heart, it makes a warm spot in his chest. And maybe, wherever he is in the world, he will compare other kisses to the one he shared with me that night. Because these moments matter. I don’t want to continue my life acting like these mundane moments don’t add up the good giblets of my life’s story. Not every experience I’ve had has been joyful. Not every relationship has been good, caring or considerate. I’ve had my heart broken and I’ve had my heart put back together. Sometimes, it’s put back together by another person, but mostly, it’s me that does it. I write this story. I think life is better with the down falls and the heartaches and the bad days. Not at those moments, mind you. But the recovery process is the sweet spot. You can’t help the hurt. The hurt is what propels us to seek a better tomorrow though. It motivates us to heal ourselves. Through therapy, friends, sports, movies, writing and even a new love interest. Maybe all of them. There’s going to be so many times you’ll need to get back up after being knocked down. You can always create one hell of a come back. And you know how can spot a good come back?
With a great first kiss. 💋
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