In high school a girl who kissed and kissed and kissed and never went any further, was a tease. And we all know what kind of tease.
But, in a way, that label is a good example of our tendency to ignore the perfectly wonderful experiences life gives us in order to push and strive and slide our way to some new experience we’re promised will be even better, more wonderful than what we’re doing right now, this moment.
Looking back, those kisses were pretty darn good. In lots of ways they were more memorable than what came later. Sex is sex. But a kiss, ah a kiss holds promise and innocence and hope.
As a child, I craved to be a teenager. Single, I thought marriage would be better. Married, children seemed the thing. When three young sons ruled my life, I was sure life would be easier, more full, when the boys were older. Now, of course, I look back on all those times fondly, nostalgically, with great yearning.
I wonder how much of life I miss even now, by always keeping my eye on the next and the next and the next goal.
Life is a tease. About darn time I enjoyed it.