One day I can be perfectly pleased with progress, etc. and the next day I can be angry/upset/pissed off/emotional/self pitying/hurt, anything. No consistency in life. This weekend was a huge roller coaster, and not necessarily a good one. But maybe good. See? Bipolar.

Friday night.

We’re standing in the kitchen talking.

I say it in my head a couple times and then I just blurt it out. I loathe the way he kisses me. Like a pansy. SO FUCKING NICE. Just “nice”. Sweet. Fine. Pleasant. FUCK THAT SHIT. The words “french kiss” make me feel like I’m in 8th grade again and it feels so lame, but there is no other way to say it.
“Why do you kiss me like that? Why don’t you french kiss me?”
Him: what??
Me: Kiss me.
Him: What are you talking about? With my tongue?
Me: I GUESS.
Him: ??
He stares at me in disbelief for a long moment and then leans in, OPENS his god damn mouth and KISSES me. Just for a millisecond. Then I pull away and tears just pop out of my eyeballs.
I did not plan on sobbing.
But I haven’t been kissed in TEN MOTHER FUCKING YEARS. I’ve gotten thousands of pecks. Lots of “wet pecks.” Every time my tongue would sort of, lick his lips while doing a “wet peck” it made me angry– why won’t you fucking reciprocate? Why won’t you explore my mouth first?
It hurt. It hurt every time. Every kiss. For the past 10 years. THe last time he kissed me was pre-infidelity. He cheated on me in March, 2003. He told me about it May 2003. Ever since then, I have never been kissed. Never been looked at. Never anything. So feeling what passion and aggressive kissing COULD feel like, it just killed me. I cried.

He didn’t let me pull away all the way, thank god the man is doing something right.
He held me there, bewildered at what was going on, “why are you crying?” “because I haven’t been kissed in a decade. and feeling a kiss is just a slap in the face. it hurts.”
him: kissed me passively. I got angry: don’t even kiss me if you’re going to do that.
him: what do you want me to do, stick my tongue in your mouth as soon as our lips touch?
ME: YES. Jesus christ, yes. WANT ME.
granted, every kiss doesn’t need to be an immediate act of aggression, but in this moment, I needed to make a point. God damn I was angry. Very, very angry.

This went on. I explained that he should not be “breaking up the kiss” to pull away and restart with little kisses again. That even his kisses are so passive they turn me off.

Then, I’m sitting on his lap in the red room and he tell me he thinks I should just spill it all. Every minute detail, maybe he should know. I resist. I think it’s too much. So many LITTLE things, I can’t pick him apart like that. I am afraid it will be too much. He says it’s not too much. He is strong.

I can’t do it.

Then, back to the kiss. It’s like he realizes at once that there are a million things that have been bothering me about him. Whose fault is it for not communicating them more- mine. He says: So you haven’t liked how I’ve KISSED you all these years?
me: no. I mean, it’s “fine.” it’s pleasant. but just like everything else, it’s another reminder that you have no passion or interest in me. kisses that are “nice” are worthless to me.
him: pulls back and says “I feel like i’m being critiqued.”
me: i know. I’m sorry..
I knew this was coming. there is only so much a person can take and this is exactly why I’ve had to let it out slowly. I think.

Advertisements