Hanky Panky
Wherin we fall in love and stuff.

3-5-99, 11:17 am

OK, so here goes.

Last night at swing class. Hands. They were the focus. We never let go. Touching hands, tapping them, clasping them. No matter what move we were learning, or what the instructors were saying, our hands were together.

Afterwards we got in my car and I moved the pictures that were on the passenger seat, and he asked to see them. "May I have some pictures of you?" he asked. "You have all these pictures of me, but I have none of you."

"Yeah, well, all the pics I have of you I took myself," I laughed.

He flipped through the pics that had been on the seat and asked to keep two of them. I'd scanned them already, so I let him have them. We stopped by my house to look for more pictures, and ended up just standing in my room looking at the neverending collage of my life on the walls. "There's so much stuff in here!" he said, turning around.

So we looked at my many things and then took off for his house. As I drove, he sat silently, then spoke up.

"I've been thinking a lot about what we talked about last night," he said. More pondering. "And I read this thing... marriage is like a cake, with friendship as the actual cake, and sex is the icing. Dating is like a cake with friendship as the base and kissing as the icing. It's just on a smaller scale."

"Like a cupcake," I said. He liked that analogy.

We smelled each other's hands again, for traces of that ever-mysterious personal scent, and when he was done, he didn't let go. "I could just hold your hand like this forever, and I'd die a happy man," he said.

I grinned, and explained my "hand thing" to him - that I love hands, holding hands, touching hands. He agreed.

And we drove, holding hands, and talked about our weird relationship.

"I like how it's going," I said. "Nice and slow, and not rushed. There's room for expansion, but I like it just the way it is now."

He nodded. "Do you want to take a walk on the beach?"

Ummm... is the pope Catholic? "Yeah, sure!"

So we stopped at his house and headed out to the beach. It was a crisp, clear night, and the stars were out, and the ocean rumbled and shook. The bright moon we'd seen while driving over had not yet appeared.

"Look up there," he said, pointing at the stars. "There's Orion."

I can't read stars worth crap. I can recognize the Big Dipper - that's about it. Sometimes I see the big "W". So of course I had no idea what he was pointing at.

"Right up there," he said. He pointed out the three stars in a row, the belt, and the bright stars above and below which finished the figure. I was most impressed.

Our fingers threaded together, in spite of the frigid air, and we started to walk and talk, shivering and laughing. Our hands got colder and colder, but we never let go. Even when we ran from the waves and jumped over puddles, he didn't let go of my hand. And it's funny, because our conversation had nothing to do with our relationship or even romance in general. He was telling me how he'd had to get his blood drawn for some new medication (he has ADD, so... he needs drugs ^^) and that his cholestoral level was about 62. (REALLY freakin' low!) But after he started the medication, in a week, his cholestoral was up to 212!! "I'm probably going to have a heart attack and keel over at the dance," he said.

"Nothing but steamed broccoli for you," I said. "A fate worse than death!"

We had arrived back at the beach just beyond his house. The moon came out and illuminated the horizon, and made the waves shimmer. We stopped, looking at the Big Dipper, which was directly overhead. We stood and made small talk about the sounds of the ocean and silence and broccoli.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

I stammered. I smiled nervously. "Various things," I said. "What are you thinking?"

He grinned. "You can't just say 'various things.' Pick one thought."

"Um.... It's pretty." I gestured at the moon. "What are you thinking?"

Sheepishly, nervously, amiably, he said, in a quiet voice, "I'm thinking about the icing."

And he looked away. I leaned against him, my face at his neck. "Embarressed?" I said. He confirmed it.

"Have you ever kissed anyone before?" I said, my breath touching his skin.

"Well... kind of... little pecks, you know. Have you?"

"Mmm-hmm." I shrugged.

So we stood against each other, warming in the cold night air, silent and waiting, waiting. I was content. Leaning against him was something I'd wanted to do for quite some time... and he was warm and inviting and relaxed. I could have stood like that forever.

And it just happened. Our heads moved, just slightly, and our lips pressed together. Very nice... the moonlit beach and our hearts thumping away. It was like a consumation of sorts, like it had been waiting to happen and had finally been "released."

We hugged. "How long have you wanted to do that?" I asked.

"Quite some time now," he said over my shoulder. "About a month... since we stood next to each other at the youth group singing, and you were right there and I had my arm around you..."

And we stood embracing and nuzzling for a little while longer. He was supposed to be in already, so we dragged ourselves back to my car.

And embraced and nuzzled again, and blushed in the light of the garage. We compared hand sizes and said how funny it was that before we didn't know what was going on, and now... "Now," he said, "it's so... so..."

And he stepped in and kissed me. We grinned. "That's better than so," he said.

"It's so cool," I mused. "There's two sides to it. We're great friends on one side, and on the other side... we kiss, when we're alone on a beach..."

"And that's OK," he said. "'Cause if you lick off all the icing..."

"You get sick," I said. (I don't think that's quite how he was going to finish it, but it was funny. :D)

And we embraced. Ohh... he's so nice to hug... the perfect size. So soft, in a way, and comfortable... so sturdy and sweet... and he smells good... the whole thing is very strange, but very cool. We prayed, and nuzzled, and tried to drag ourselves away from each other.

"You're going to hate getting up tommorrow," I said.

"It's worth it... it's worth almost anything... I'll wake up tomorrow and wonder if it was all a dream."

"It sure as heck isn't a dream. It's better than a dream." I grinned.

We finally parted and I drove home at the speed of light to make it back at exactly 11:30 pm. And I tiptoed through the house and went to sleep very very happy. :D

12:05 pm

Life isn't always dreary and dull.