I’ve written very long, verbose pieces for the past week or so, and I apologize.  I promise I don’t think that much.  It’s just been a combination of rare occurrances.. Bryan’s been home, the tv’s been on, and we were both awake.  All of those combined into a mish-mash of intellectual viewings followed by discussions.  And I’ve shared those.  Pretty much verbatim.

Regardless, I have nothing intellectual or even slightly witty to share with you today.  It’s Wednesday, which means nothing to me other than it’s the middle of the week.. I’ve actually visited and revisited the draft of this post close to four times now, with no more to discuss this time than the last.  It’s just one of those lulls.

I should state that I don’t deal well with lulls.  Just, you know, for the record.

When I’m alone a lot, or there’s overwhelming silence, or I’m idle (GOD FORBID!), I think.  Not in a good way.  I create these scenarios.  Because, mostly, I’m not really good with committment.  That’s the part of marriage that terrifies me.. I’m TERRIBLE with committment.  I can committ to a show, because there’s an end to the means.  I can put up with three months of torture, because, you know, there’s applause at the end.  I can committ to work because there’s deadlines.. and they pay me.  But committment to another individual?  FOR LIFE?

That’s some deep shit right there.

So I lay on my couch most nights last week, thinking about committment.. how I’ve sucked at it in the past, how Bryan’s not always been too hot on it, how that probably spells disaster.  And then, watching “Friends”, Monica nailed it: conceivably, I’ve had my last first kiss.  EVER.

HOLY CRAP.

Now, sure, I could look at statistics and say that there’s a 50% chance that I’ll have another first kiss.  Or I could only choose parts that involve kissing onstage from here on out.  But those are sucky choices!  So I lay there, several nights in a row, thinking how Bryan will inevitably get bored with my kiss and I’ll inevitably be hurt in the process and inevitably it will all end so that we can kiss other people.

I justified this, in my fucked up little head.  In my head, I made peace with, “Well.. it probably won’t last forever.  Best to stomach that now.” 

So last night, Bryan leaned over in bed and kissed me.  It was just one of those goodnight kisses that are routine, ordinarily mundane, but something clicked.  I kissed him back.  He kissed me back.  And I’ll spare you any gory details.. but it was as good, if not better, than our first kiss.  The electricity was there.  The hunger was there.  But.. there was something else.  Love was there.  Support was there.  Familiarity was there. 

I’m sure every married woman reads that and says either, “Duh” or “Yeah, give it ten years”.  And that’s fine.  Because what I realized last night, as I drifted off to sleep, was that committment didn’t mean I should deprive myself of anything.. it just means I get to indulge in what I like.  It means that I get to learn that kiss, inside and out.. or that I can memorize his hands on my back.. or all of those things that completely took my breath away when we were dating.. I get those forever..

.. and isn’t that amazing?