Now I can't speak, nor will I, for men in general, (just my man, Boomer) but we women know, that that first kiss tells you everything you need to know - - right now. Boomer and I love the Will Smith movie Hitch. Every time we'd watch the scene when Will's character, Alex 'Hitch' Hithens, is coaching Kevin James' character on the first kiss, Boomer inherently nods his head and says, "yep, that's it, exactly, " in complete agreement. The first kiss is the tell.
Ours was no exception, other than our first kiss, standing outside my car, launched a 45-minute makeout session in the parking lot of that dive pizza place.
I still wonder how I made the 24-mile drive home from Schaumburg to Evanston afterward; I was floating in the hypnotic trance of what just occurred and how much I enjoyed every second of it. Coupled by the distressing thought that at the time, Boomer was technically my boss. That was for later dealing. It was all about being on Cloud 9, that the crush I fantasized about for several years was actually materializing. Zowie.
Fact is, holding each others hand and smooching have always been our favorite things. For Boomer, there was no better constant or immediate way to express affection, and feel that emotional, intimate connection with the one you love and who loves you - - any time, any place. Clothes on, clothes off. I couldn't agree more. That's why it played so well for us.
There's a Polish phrase, Daj Mi Buzi (pr. da-me-booji), that translates to "give me a kiss." Though Boomer downplayed his Polish heritage (he favored his Irish roots), he enjoyed that phrase alot. It was always fun to honor the request whenever he said it. And how Prince's song "Kiss" holds a special place in my heart today.
Our kisses, be it a simple peck or a long linger, each were rich in passion, intimacy and deep love. The best kisses I've every known. My heart fluttered with every one. I remember last summer, we were in Home Depot, I was walking a few feet in front of him on a search mission, when Boomer grabbed my arm to pull me back and planted a big one on my lips. A man exiting the cross-isle exalted to us, "Now that's how it's done." To which we both laughed and I flushed. Not bad after 15 years.
|Smooch satisfaction, 1999|
Even during the 36-hours in the hospital before he died, I was frequently applying a fresh coat of lipstick to make my mark: on his forehead, his cheek, his mouth, even his hands. Whatever I could reach at that moment - I stamped him with my lips, to remind him of my love, our love, and how much it all means.
Holding hands and kisses with Boomer. God how I miss them. But I'm so grateful for the knowing.