With This Kiss

I talk to my dad at lunch. I’m trying and trying not to tell him about Von. Not that I don’t want him to know. It’s just that it seems like when you tell your parents and/or family something, it becomes reality and a really big deal and usually it jinxes it. The minute I speak the words to them they bust in with a logic laser beam and whatever cloud I was floating on disintegrates and I fall from the sky, flat on my ass. Then he says, “You sound happier than I’ve heard you in a long time.” And I blurt out, “I am, Daddy!” And then I start talking a mile a minute about Von and how wonderful he is and how happy he makes me and all my dad could do was laugh although he was probably bored to tears. My dad says, “He sounds great. Maybe we’ll meet this one?” I assure him they will and that I want to bring him home this summer. I tell him even Vagina Jane likes him. I think this surprises him.

Von comes over after work. We sit on my bed and talk for hours about our families and growing up and what we want out of life. It takes all my will power not to blurt out, “You! You are what I want.” Luckily I save myself from looking like a complete psycho and hold it in. The problem is I want to share with him. I want to share every single feeling and emotion that I have and I feel like he wouldn’t look at me like I’m crazy. I think he’d tell me he totally gets it. And maybe even agree. But I know to hold out. This is going way to fast as it is. I need to settle down.

Hours drift away with our ramblings until my head is swimming and I think the only way to stop myself from professing my feelings for him is to kiss him. I kiss him until my lips hurt. I kiss him until the sun begins to peak through the blinds. I kiss him like I’ve never kissed anyone else before. And I know he feels the same when he kisses me back.