It has become increasingly difficult to stop my mind from fantasizing and my heart (libido, actually… I think) from yearning for a kiss.
I had an incredibly erotic dream last night. Ridiculously real sensations, physically and mentally. I don’t know who he is, but I held enough affection for him to constitute a sexual relationship. And I woke up that morning feeling sore in areas that would not be affected by contorted sleeping positions or a stiff mattress. It was as if my mind was simulating an exercise, remembering old habits, last night in order to satiate the need that my body has been experiencing for the past few days. I am not ashamed to admit that it worked, to some degree.
But in all that time, that handsome man and I never kissed. Not a single peck.
And I realize that a kiss is the one thing that honestly can’t be bought at the back of Spencers or imaged with pornography.
It’s like with Pretty Woman. Julia Roberts plays a prostitute, whose only code of conduct is to never kiss him on the lips. Kisses are special, I got that while I watched the movie. And I’m realizing now, that kisses are special, because I don’t even remember what it feels like to be kissed. I know that it is wonderful, it is as hormone inducing as any other intimate touch. But it is a feeling that my body doesn’t remember. It’s not as if I haven’t been kissed in a very long time. Just… a long time. And it’s been supercharging my loneliness. I’ve been thinking about it more than I’m comfortable with.
This is a pretty revealing post, I realize. And I’m sure there are people reading this post not thinking the best of me. But I’m a girl and I believe this is a natural thing. Wet dreams, sex, orgasms, lust. Not really things people speak of publicly with such candor, with such an analytical eye.
But I’m doing this because I think I have a problem.
This is something that probably doesn’t need to be shared, I accept the judgment of whoever is reading this. But I need to gather my thoughts. Keeping silent hasn’t help stop or slow down the frequency of these feelings, and I’m more articulate here than I am if I were speaking to someone about this in person.
This will probably be my last post relating to an issue like this. I’m hoping writing this out is cathartic enough for me to never have to bare out this side of me again.
For those of you who’ve never seen this part of me, well, here it is. It’s always been there. It always will be.