Kissing is a lot of things.  Different things. Polar opposite things.

Recently, I’ve been feeling a little “drought-y.” I had a very “when it rains it pours” past couple of months. And then I cut most everyone off and the only person I didn’t cut off never kissed me and flew to Japan (he’ll make a reappearance when he gets back though, so don’t worry!)

Anyway, this turn of events lead me to realize last week that I really wanted to kiss a boy dang it. I wanted to, but I knew I wasn’t going to actively try to. I mean, if I REALLY wanted to all I had to do was knock on a very nearby door and engage in some tonsil hockey. It wouldn’t really be a challenge, and I could get my fix. But something kept me from doing that. Perhaps laziness, perhaps something else.

And I didn’t want to do anything else. Truly. It was just the kissing I was missing. (Probably part of the reason Jack wouldn’t be the quick fix I was looking for. I didn’t really feel like turning this round of first base into a home run situation).

I like to make out with boys. Well, not so much anymore, but oh I used to. Nothing else, nothing more. I didn’t do this at random bars or anything, didn’t meet strangers and decide that we needed to make out (well, once, but my sister knew him, so that was fair, right?) but it just seemed to happen that making out was about as far as I needed to go.

I don’t know what it is about kissing that makes it so rockin’ awesome. Some people I hear don’t even like it. That is just silly.

But at the same time. Kissing is gross.

I mean, seriously, rubbing your tongue against another person’s tongue?? Just seems weird when you’re not doing it and you sit down and start writing about it. I mean, there’s no logical rhyme or reason to it, and yet at the same time it can make me all fluttery and lightheaded.

And really, I think THAT’S what I was missing. The fluttery feeling of something magical happening. It was easy enough to realize once I took a step back. Because despite that I haven’t really kissed my far off in Japan suitor, I get that feeling. And that feeling can’t just be recreated by kissing any ol’ guy.

I know. Because I experienced any ol’ guy kiss this weekend. It wasn’t planned, I didn’t start it, or even encourage it. I was out with someone having one of our talks and all of a sudden there was a sneak attack on my face. Once I was there I figured I would give it a little try. At least give the kid a fair chance of making a good impression. It was nice. It wasn’t something to complain about, but it wasn’t something to write home about either. No flutters. It won’t happen again, not with him.

And so here I am, not waiting for the kissing anymore – that won’t cut it. But waiting for the damn flutters. I only know one real solution at this point, but tragically it’s thousands of miles away. So I’ll just have to sit and wait (patiently?) for the flutters to come home….