Intimacy.

It began with a kiss. No wait, it actually didn’t.

It begins when you allow somebody into your personal space. A little bit of a trust, I suppose. Letting somebody scoot closer to you, as if to say, “May I sit next to you?” Okay, silly. But true. If you don’t like somebody, you don’t want to sit next to them.

Hugs are allowing somebody into your personal space, but only for a moment. You know the difference between the people you give one-second hugs to, and the people you give full-body hugs to. Ah, there is contact! Albeit brief.

It began when I held her hand. Well, no. We carassed hands. Interaction. Non-verbal communication on a very primitive level, yet sophisticated level.

I went fast with Angel and I always felt a little bit guilty about it, no matter how I tried to rationalize it. Why couldn’t I go slower? I’ve been beating myself up for years over everything, you know. I saw it in terms that had been provided for me. Pervert. Male sex drive. Hormones.

But, there’s more to it than that. I managed to get most of that guilt off my mind in those terms. But the fact is, I crave intimacy. As much as I’ve tried to deny my nature, that’s about as close to the truth as I’ll get. If somebody offers me a little, I go as far as she’ll let me. Never farther. I don’t force myself on people. (No nit-picking about this.)

That first kiss is a big marker in one’s life. Well, if it’s good. When you bring your face, the conglomerate of most of your senses, close to another person’s face. Letting somebody past your personal space and in contact with you. You can’t hide much when you’re kissing somebody. If you’re not into it, it’ll show. And if you’re into it, it’ll show.

I didn’t crave a kiss until I had one. And then it was quite clear: I want more. I liked how I felt when I kissed. It felt good. And with each article of clothing that is removed, with each trace of a finger down a person’s body, more intimacy is built. Trust. Comfort.

I don’t kiss just anybody. But it seems to me that once I kiss a girl, the floodgates are open.

I understand myself and my feelings a bit more clearly after having been intimate the way I was with Paige. I understand .. how intimate intimacy is. *laughs* I also understand how vulnerable I become. That’s part of what I seem to like about it. I like baring myself to people. I like trusting people. I may write people off, but once I decide to trust somebody, I will give all that person can handle. I’m not talking physicality, I’m just talking thoughts and feelings.

Emotional intimacy and physical intimacy. One deals with that of the mind, the other with that of the body. They’re hard to spread apart, at times. I clearly share a lot of emotional intimacy with my friends. If I’m given that green flag, I can let go in ways that surprise even me.

I wasn’t expecting to talk about this, but… It’s puzzling to me how I had such physical intimacy with Paige, yet I had such trouble letting go with my thoughts. I guess that’s what I always meant by “having a long courtship” with a girl. Getting to know her. Getting her to know me. Understood in this context, I guess it makes sense. There was always such a difference between my friends and my girlfriend. So to speak. What I was sharing with my girl at the time never quite matched what I was sharing with the rest of my friends, no matter how good the communication was. That isn’t to say I never had emotional intimacy. It’s just, at some point, something goes out of balance. I’m not quite sure what, at this juncture.

So while I certainly don’t have the answers at this time, I’m one step closer to understanding myself and why things happen as they do. Physical intimacy, when somebody knows your body better than you know it. All your spots, your ticklish points, your void areas. And emotional intimacy, when somebody knows your brain better than you know it. Both can be kind of scary at times, but they’re to be desired without shame. …I just have to watch how vulnerable I let myself be?