The One Kiss Rule

Several months ago, during the heyday of the inexplicably popular "15/16/25 Things About Yourself" Facebook meme, fellow gent B. Graham posted her list - and one of the things she wrote has stuck with me ever since. It was her number 6, and while I and several friends were agonizing about how not to post a list of 14 incredibly depressing personal secrets and 1 or 2 harmless quirks, Graham had used to opportunity to (I have to assume without meaning to) in one line lay the groundwork for months of idle thought in my brain that eventually led me here - and to a new code to adopt into the way I live my life.

This happens sometimes - with a song lyric, or a movie quote, but most often a quick offhand aside from a friend - one line that will stay with me, constantly being revisited in a search for why this particular phrase, this concept, these words have resonated so deeply into the core of my psyche. That months after the originator has forgotten all about them, leaving no sign left of their original intent, they still exist in me, turning over and over like clothes in a dryer every time my mind is left unguarded and unattended.

"6) I truly believe the world would be a much, much happier place if everyone got to kiss everyone they wanted to. Just once. I would probably kiss everyone I know."

I'm not sure I would kiss everyone. I think I'd use the gift sparingly, taking advantage of those precious moments. But the sentiment, I think, is beautiful and worthy. And one that I'm adopting as a general principal.

There are a lot of terrible feelings in the world, and it's hard to qualitatively say which is worst. But one that hurts, that burns, that I wish on no one, is that feeling when you go in for a kiss and the look you get is fear. Some mixture of dread and revulsion. Not a gentle no, or a laugh at the exuberant audacity - nothing kind, because there's no time. Just that immediate face of fear.

It's a terrible feeling, and I have to say, I've been there too often. It's a fear that stays.

The opposite, and it's what reminded me of this - a few week's ago I asked a girl out on a date. A new friend, someone I know reasonably well but not too well yet, and I thought that she was cool enough to take that risk (which is pretty much my barometer). She's seeing someone, it turns out, which is totally cool (which is always the best reason, because it has nothing to do with you). But she smiled - she was surprised, and was sorry the timing wasn't better. And she seemed genuinely interested the idea if things were different. She apologized - I said "you definitely don't have to do that." And then jokingly I said 'make me feel better - tell me you would have said yes."

And she said "Of course I would have said yes."
And followed it up with "I always do."

And that's pretty cool. All you have to do is ask, and you get a shot at being seen in a new light, just because. One date, almost as a reward for putting yourself out there. But really, one night to shift the paradigm, one chance at being something different. Whether it seems likely to work or not.

Just like that one kiss.

I have a story I've been writing in my head for years, of this character who is firmly and utterly in love with his best frend - Daniella Grey. He literally goes to hell to try and save her from Lucifer, and there are vampires and road trips and things ensue and if I ever write it down I think it will be pretty damn good. But at it's core, is this realization, this moment where he suddenly knows it's never going to happen. She's fallen in love with his best friend (because he can treat her as an equal, and the main character almost can't help but worship her). So there's this moment, where after living with this love for so long, and being on the run, he finally breaks into a rant that ends with "and all I've ever wanted is to kiss you."

And she smiles and says, 'then why haven't you?'
And she kisses him. And for one moment, lights shine and angels sing.
And then it passes. And he says 'But you still love him." And she nods.
And it's ok. He has his moment. And sometimes that moment, even if it lasts a second and will never be repeated, is enough.

It's not as though the world is knocking down my door for a kiss, but this my new rule- anyone who wants one, gets one. Not if I have a girlfriend, not if I think you're dangerous or violent, but in any other reasonable situation that I would maybe otherwise turn down - why not? One date, one kiss. I can take those risks.

I wish everyone could get a chance to kiss who they wanted, just once. Just to see what happens.
Because you'd be surprised.

I'm not talking about an epic makeout, or a quick peck on the cheek either. Just a quick strike at the flint in the hope of a spark. A simple, solid kiss. A possibility.
Because the likelihood is that nothing is going to happen, that nothing is really going to change. But maybe, in that moment, something magical will happen. You can learn so much about someone in how they kiss, and even more in how they kiss you.
In a way that words and want can't convey.

Perhaps their passion is a dying ember being gently snuffed by soft wet lips ushering it to where desire goes after it fades.

Or maybe it's a single explosion, building to it's crescendo, and in the interlock of lips that energy is released and in the aftermath has been dispersed, waiting to collect itself and build back up again.

But on that rare occasion, it's a fire, small and burning, that's been cared and tended for, stoked by sideways glances and the joy of a single smile - a fire so well tended that if given the opportunity will light itself into you without you're being aware that it was there.

And suddenly you're burning too.

And if not - that kiss is just an answered question, a fond memory, a gentle goodbye to a dream, a souvenier of unrequited love.

All of which is better than that terrible stare.