Sweet Valentine Part Two: The Way He Kissed Me Makes Me Wish I Were Still a Poet

 

Currently, Sweet Valentine and I are on a pause, taking stock of things. I need time and space to feel some griefs and manage some OCD/codependency stuff, and he needs time to think about what he really wants and can offer. Usually I would just let someone go at this point, good old "If it's a maybe then it's a no." from Cuddle Party rules. But I didn't want to let him go. I asked if we could be in touch in a month and see where we're at, and he agreed. I don't know if that decision is hopeful or just avoiding the inevitable, but I really, REALLY hope I get to kiss him again.

Back to the perfect coffee date. When it felt like we were wrapping up at the coffeeshop, I said "Well, should we take it slow and say goodbye here, or should we go to my place?"

He picked coming over, hooray hooray!

This all felt easy and natural in a way that's rare for me! Letting chemistry carry us forward like a slutty and helpful wind. No overthinking, no negotiations, just him on my couch. <3 <3 <3 Just pouring ourselves into each other.

He may not, in the course of the processings and ponderings, turn out to be the right one for me, but we kissed like we were absolutely meant for each other. His mouth tasted of nothing but mouth. He didn't mind when I bit his lip. Our tongues slid together and apart and around and across. His beard skritched and sanded my face in the most satisfying and life-affirming way.

It's hard to believe something so beautifully transcendent could happen on an ordinary Wednesday morning, in the middle of my ordinary couch nest. Surrounded by books and blankets and Squishmallows, with Younger Cat nosing her way in with typical comic timing. Home. Magic. Peace.