I kissed him.
I’d been attracted to him for a time, his beautiful lines and charming smile hued with uncertainty. But as I sat listening to him speak, he revealed a moment of vulnerability – a well to his inside that ‘needed’ something and the only thing I could think to do – was to lean over and cover his lips with my own.
I haven’t been kissed in almost a year and a half. The last time I tasted anyone I wore braces and believed I was unlovable. I cupped his face, and leaned my forehead against his.
I am a different woman. So different – that I don’t know who this Athena is in response to intimacy, affection, the collision of energies. I felt 15 again, my lips wooden and my tongue confused. All the sexual confidence I had years ago, as a swinger, as an erotica writer – gone. My fingers shook slightly and I had all the usual worries; was my breath okay, do I have good technique, am I an idiot for doing this?
We parted with electric promise in the air. I watched him walk away and knew both reluctance and relief.
Later, I lay awake wondering how this changes things. Not because I expect or want anything from someone in particular – but because, the door has been cracked open, not ajar, but light is seeping in and it troubles me.
A year and a half since sex, contact, intimacy.
Two years since love.
The pace of solitude and adventure, my proficient self-containment has offered a safety. The safety of what is known and understandable, what is reason and simplicity. And with honesty I must include, control.
When other energy is involved, there is the potential for complexity – and I just don’t know if this new Athena is prepared for complexity.
I don’t know if I’m prepared for it, but I fell asleep smiling and woke optimistic.
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