Bent Words

Bent Words

February 04, 2010

I was rather hoping that this admission would seem a little less creepy (and/or desperate) written down than it did in my head but since I've resolved not to hold anything back in this journal, wise or unwise as that may be, here we go...

I would seriously fork over twenty bucks for one good, long, devouringly passionate kiss.

I'm basically not kidding.

And 'devouringly' is a word in Laura Land.

The notion that I whole heartedly deserve one good lip smacking is certainly not in question. The fact that I have been thus deprived and now have to actualize this gesture monetarily, however, is rather sad. It's not that I need to pay for the fundamental act -- hell I was offered "a good kiss" not more than five days ago -- it's just that I don't want a mediocre experience. I want a fairly specific sort of kiss with a fairly specific set of lips for a fairly specific duration of time. And since you're supposed to get what you pay for, I would like a kiss that's worth about twenty dollars. Please.

"What about The Boy" you ask? Well, what about him? I was more than willing to overlook the fact that he can't kiss when he was a supportive, loving and respectful Nice Guy. In fact I did just that for 2.5 years. But ever since he's hopped careers to become a professional Jackass, I just don't see why I should waste my time. He's still a good guy, from a distance, but now he no longer has to pretend he likes kissing and I no longer have to pretend it doesn't matter. We're part time Whatevers and that's fine, I guess. Passion not included.

I acquainted one of my exes with the thought. He naturally offered to donate his time to my worthy cause but that would be about as satisfying as substituting a straw for a cigarette. It's not the same. I don't even have to try it to be convinced.

I suppose I could have said yes to the man who offered me a kiss five days ago so as to properly 'live in the moment' and 'seize the day' and 'throw something off into the wind' and all that crap but I just couldn't see fit to acquiesce. I just sort of stood there, gently swaying, after he asked me. During that brief refrain as I tried to picture this kiss, I realized that I just could not. Not now and perhaps not ever. I just couldn't see myself kissing a man named Pat.

Sorry Pat.

No, as I said, I have a rather specific sort of kiss playing in my head. The kind that leaves your lips a darker shade of red. The kind that stings a little afterward. The kind you can't see fit to end. The hungry kind. The thought of it catches me off guard and sets my heart on overtime when I turn the corner during my downtown walks. I gotten so flustered just thinking about it that I almost tripped over myself. It somehow finds me when I'm dreaming (Chantix?) and sticks with me long after I'm awake. And I want it. It's THAT good of a kiss.

Definitely worth twenty bucks.

Unfortunately the owner of those fairly specific set of lips keeps pulling the Married Card out on me.


Written at 8:00 p.m.