THE LIPPY CONNECTION

I’ve been single for the better part of a thousand years. The situation is at that point that my friends no longer ask questions and no longer look at me with a mix of suspicion and pity.

And they know better than to risk their own lives trying to set me up on dates…

I wish there was a Hollywood-worthy story, but the truth is simply that someone I loved died in a car crash 15 years ago and since then I’ve just never met anyone who…you know…lit the fireplace…

I’ve settled into a very comfortable life and I’m privileged enough to have several single friends too. So for me there is nothing I long for with such frenzy that I would try to mend the situation.

But, of course, I have not been dipped in liquid nitrogen; a healthy heart beats in my chest as warm blood runs through my veins. Every now and again I think fondly of some benefits that come from being in a loving relationship. For the most part what I miss depends on the movie, song, persons I’m surrounded by or the time of the monthly cycle…

It’ll be nice if someone cared whether I lock my car doors if I drive home late at night. I almost never drive at night anymore and my car doors lock automatically but that’s not the bloody point, is it?

There are other small things…like walking into a room with someone. I’ve walked into rooms alone for so long I can’t even fantasize anymore about what it feels like. But it must be nice.

Then there’s the physical part. Having ravenous hands touch you is a privilege us singletons frequently miss. And I don’t just mean the really intimate bits. I also mean two hands cupping your face; caressing your skin just for the hell of it.

But oh man, then there’s kissing.

This whole diatribe is a product of a video someone sent me today. You have probably seen it, it’s a social experiment of sorts, showing strangers kiss for the first time…

It’s fascinating. Here are several sets of strangers staring at each other with considerable trepidation. There is giggling and blushing and compulsive yakking. Then it happens. One of the two people reaches a pinnacle of courage and pulls the other closer and they kiss. Slow and careful at first. Then urgent and on purpose.

After enough time elapses for me to switch on my air-conditioning, they stop. Gone are the strangeness and the giggles and avoiding eye contact. What is left are two people having connected.

What is it about kissing? What is it about pushing a pair of squishy sacks of squishiness against another pair of squishy sacks? Maybe it’s the exchanging of a little bit of me for a little bit of you and we’re not grossed out, we’re now a little bit of one of two and we can never take it back and that’s cool.

I remember watching old movies with my grandmother when I was a teenager and swooning at the kissing scenes. There was something mesmerizing about submitting to a man and a man softening to a woman…

I mean…ass-kicking Scarlet in the arms of manly Rhett? Come on…

I’m just gonna say it. In a world where genders are more equal than ever and different colors of love is more accepted than ever, it is titillating to imaging surrendering to being kissed…having arms enfold me away from the world. Submitting to a person and being safe there. Not having to protect myself, fight for my wickets, guard against error or any other ol’ thing we look out for every day.

There is no connection like kissing and just collapsing into the mystery of loveliness that will not have itself be understood.

So if you have someone to kiss…what on earth are you waiting for?

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