I miss kissing - no specific person, just the act; close and eyes and mouth to mouth, easy.

I was thinking this morning about a nameless faceless Someone, (someone I know is in my future because I deserve him, we all deserve someone), someone who is comfortable with me and I with him. I was reading, scratching myself in the most unbecoming of places; sprawled on my bed, and playacting. By this I mean I smiled absently (lazily) over my shoulder at this someone (the mirror) and let my fingertips touch him (the chair) momentarily before I turned the page. Again I was thinking about easiness, about being comfortable. Not about sex or passion or anything but being comfortable to the point of obscenity. Comfortable to the point of taking them for granted.

(For granted that they will be as comfortable as I am, for granted that I am still beautiful with gunk in my eyes from sleeping and the pimple on my bony chest bleeding because I have picked at it and for granted that it is not rude to itch my butt distractedly the whole while I am reading).

This is what I see in my future. Today I am feeling generous with myself and I can see this because I believe I deserve it and it may be true. This is what I see, but today is 28 April 2001 at 11:52 p.m., and I still miss kissing.

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