Monday, December 05, 2005

I WAS CHATTING

with a new friend about relationships and such, and it really got me thinking for the rest of the day, and well into the evening, about my own past. I really ought not go into the full details here, as some people who read this blog from time to time would, no doubt, be portrayed in a way they would not be comfortable. And I would not be comfortable making the portrayal any different.

But that is not what finds me writing this morning. No, instead it is almost a whim that came to me in the midst of all this. And it is this I cannot remember the kiss of anyone but Carly

Now, before you all think this is some sentimental drivvel, I need to clarify. There are, I think, two ways to remember something. Your brain can tell you how it was: this went like this, and so on and so forth. That sort of memory is wholly reference, and unfulfilling. But your body can remember, too. This is the sort of sensory remembrance that is full. It is the sort that gives you a shiver, when you think of something that put you out, or warms you, or makes you cry.

It is this memory I am lacking. I tried. I can give you the details of my very first kiss: cliched and awkward, duration, location. But I no longer remember what it felt like. How did she smell? How did she taste?

One of my friends had the fortune to be in one of the Mighty Ducks movies. During the time when kissing was requisite at parties, we kissed a lot. I remember knowing that I was special because I got to kiss her, when everyone else wanted to. I can remember the SHIRT I was wearing the first time I kissed her. I could tell you, to a person, who was there and what they were doing. I know she was one of those multiple short small kisses sort of kisser, and it drove me insane. But I cannot remember with any clarity what the kiss was like.

Carly, when she is very passionate, will bite my lower lip. In the winter, that means she can actually, if just the smallest bit, draw blood. That taste stays with me as a defining characteristic of the way we kiss, and I love it. I know other people and other kisses must have had these traits attached to them, and now they are gone.

I wonder if that is a compliment to where I am at now, or a insult to the places I have been.

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