I want to be kissed.
There, I said it. Out loud.
I've been separated from my ex for three and a half years, and we're almost divorced now. Before he left, we spent two years in separate bedrooms.
And it has now been five (yes, you read that correctly) five years since I have been properly kissed.
I don't mean a peck on the cheek or a quick buss on the lips from an old friend or acquaintance, here.
I'm talking about somebody leaning in, or pulling me close. Intent in those eyes before the lids begin to lower, feeling his breath fan my lips and then the warmth of his mouth closing down on mine.
I'm talking soft, sucking kisses. Long, deep, tongue-swirling kisses. Lips fusing and bodies pressing and ending slightly breathless kisses.
I'm talking pin my arms over my head and have your wicked way with me kisses.
I'm talking soft, sleepy, oh-I-just-rolled-over-and-remembered-you-were-there kisses.
I'm talking playful, plucking kisses and kissing me to end an argument kisses and all the other sort of kisses that it's hard to write about because it just reminds me again that I really, really need to be kissed.
And maybe even do more than kissing, while I'm at it. But that's a post, and a thought for another time.
Today, I just plain want to be kissed. Or maybe I want to feel like I'm wanted enough to be kissed. Worthy of being kissed. Desired so much that someone actually would kiss me.
That's the crux of it, really. And I'm not feeling it so much right now. I'm mainly feeling lonely, and wondering if I'm going to be that way forever, just because it's safer.
Not easier, though.
Not when I need to be kissed.