Week 31

     The theatre was closing and the parking lot had emptied, all the while we embraced in the car. It wasn't the first time I had hugged her, but it was the first time I properly held her in my arms. After a moment we separated, just far enough to be able to look into each other's eyes. Time passes. Too much. With a slightly furrowed brow she asks, " Sooo are you going to kiss me?" God, I was nervous. I leaned in and our lips touch. It's not my first kiss. But it may as well be.

     I've always loved kissing. It's one of my favorite things. I just find the act to be so...spiritual. That's a really weird word to use right there, but it's true. As cliche and sappy as it may sound, I consider kissing to be the way souls touch. Ugh, even I hate myself for actually typing that sentence. But, nonetheless, that's how I feel.

     Kissing isn't just one thing. It can't be summed up and dropped into a little box with a bow on it. A kiss is so much more. A kiss can say hello, or be a last goodbye. It can tell someone you love them, or just let them know you like them. It's a handshake, a first dance, a congratulations. A kiss is an agreement, to surrender a piece of yourself to someone else, if only for a moment.

Unless you're drunk. Then a kiss is just means you're trying to get some.

     As I slowly made my way down the frozen section of the Ralph's, only half way taking in what I see, I notice a shrill cry cutting through the air. Near the front entrance, a couple pushes a screaming child in a cart. "Stop it, Johnny!" the woman yells. Johnny continues to cry out. "Stop it, Johnny! Just Stop it!" Dear God Johnny, just listen to her kid. I push my cart away from the spectacle, until Johnny's tantrum is far behind me. 

I wonder if Johnny's parents still kiss?