Friday, September 11, 2015

Chapter 5: The Mundane

“I’m going to kiss you.”

So he did.  And I let him.  And his arms went around me and pulled me close, his lips touched mine, and… the papers I was holding fell to the floor and I felt the cold metal file cabinet against my back and his hand were on my body tracing my geography learning the curve of my hips and pulling us together as was only right…. And my lips parted, instinctively, willingly… and we kissed.  For long minutes, tasting each other, testing…

And not once did I think of Reed.  Not in guilt, not in revenge.  I suppose I should have though something.  But I didn’t.  Then again, why would I? 

I let me desire rule because I wanted to.  I’ve always been the good girl, the one that the parents wanted their sons to date and the one whose virginity the boys vied for.  What did it get me?  Men value purity far more than most women.  Society places great stock in the “firsts” of life.  But the truth is that most “firsts” are awkward and clumsy.   

My first time was in the backseat of a boy’s car.  He was nervous and eager and very much like a puppy dog – easy to please but relatively clueless.  He came too fast, finishing long before I even began, then decided that he was officially a man, having claimed the Purity of Meredith.

Seconds, thirds, fourths…. Those are better.  Those are when you know what you’re doing.  When you know when and how.  When you know what you want and have learned how to ask for it, when you stretch out below the man and laugh and say, do it again and touch me here.  Fourths, fifths, and sixths give you courage to say no, not like that with practiced ease.  By then you've learned how to smile and purr, how to wrap yourself around him and make him feel like he's the only man who ever had you.   Firsts are things to get out of the way, to move on from, and to learn from.  They break the ice and allow you to dive in.   

I went home and worked in the yard, pulling out weeds, thinking about today.  How mundane.  A kiss.  Then yard work.    

I suppose, if this kiss broke the ice, then you might say I'm standing on the edge, dipping my toes in.