A kiss to build a dream on...

Going to go on a bit of a ramble here.  You can try to figure out where I'm going with this, or what I'm referring to, but I promise that you'll probably be wrong no matter who you are or what your guess may be.  So good luck with that--analyze away.  It's just an exercise in writing anyway....

There are about a million references to kissing in our society:  You can blow a kiss, kiss and make up, or kiss the dust.  You can be kissing cousins, or kiss and tell.

You can follow Clark Griswold's directive in Christmas Vacation: "kiss my ass, kiss his ass, kiss your ass."
You can kiss off, seal it with a kiss, "do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" and kiss (fill in the blank) goodbye.

I worked with a particular young woman at Starbucks when I lived in New York.  She was incredibly cute, and had the most amazing smile.  No kidding--she lit up the room when she smiled.  I was instantly attracted to her, and was lucky enough to have a friend that advised me to ask her out (we'd both told this friend about the mutual attraction--saved a lot of time given how slow I was at asking women out).
So we went on our first date, something simple actually; I think we just had dinner and walked around for a while.  When I dropped her off at her house at the end of the night and she was getting ready to let herself out of my Jeep, when we should have that awkward moment people sometimes have of wondering if they'll have that first kiss, we actually just both leaned toward each other, and proceeded to completely miss each others lips.  Not sure I'd even qualify that as a kiss, honestly; more of a collision.  Our second try was better, by far.  I remember that kiss very fondly--it was one of the good ones.

My first kiss from a girl was when I was about 8.  My brother had come home from the playground at school and told me a friend of mine was there, so I went out to see him.  My friend wasn't there, but one of the girls from my class was there with one of her friends.  They cornered me on what we called the jungle gym, and the girl from my class kissed me before I could get away.  I went home totally grossed out, rinsing my mouth out and scrubbing my lips at least a half a dozen times.  That was one of the bad ones.  I think the classmate's name was Nicole, which probably isn't accurate.  Maybe it's better if it's not; change the names to protect the innocent (or guilty).
I would have preferred if it had been Tracy, the cute blonde girl that sat across from me in class.  I'd done the slow skate with her at Skate Land a couple of times, holding hands as we took the loop around the rink.  I'd have been happy to let her corner me in the playground, even at the ripe old age of 8.

I waited 5 years to kiss a woman once.  We'd gone out a few times, and I moved before I (or she) had made the move.  It was only when I saw her again that we kissed, and it was so sudden, intense, and passionate that I figured it must have been simmering inside me for that whole 5 years.  Didn't even know.

I dated two women a single time each, years apart from each other.  I'd gone out with each of them under some pressure from mutual friends far more than any interest on my part, and both times they kissed me in the car on the way home.  I appreciated the gesture, but it was like being 8 years old on the playground with "Nicole" again.  Only with tongue.

I was engaged once, and broke it off.  I don't remember the first time we kissed, or the last.

I was with a woman once that didn't let me kiss her the first time I tried, even though I'd been wanting to for years.  Felt like a damned fool afterward.  Hard enough to build up the nerve to do it--even worse when she turns her head away as you make the move.   Second time I tried weeks later, I didn't get shut down, and it was better than the 5 year wait I mentioned earlier--all the passion, love, and intensity of the wait, but this time I had known how much it had been simmering inside my heart.  That one was at the top of the list, by a mile.  Ironically, I remember many of the times I kissed her, but not the last.  Life is strange some times.

There's the kiss of death, or the kiss of life, a first kiss, a last kiss, a kiss from a rose on the gray, the rock group KISS, or Hershey's Kiss.

Some kisses are better than others.  If you're in the kissing cousins camp I don't want to hear about it.

Some of you reading this blog are referred to above--more than one, in fact.  All I'll say is that none of you are in the "Nicole" group.  Hope no offense is taken....