First kiss fears
It’s been nearly five years since I last kissed my husband goodnight. It’s been that long since I’ve fallen asleep in his arms; since I’ve felt completely safe and completely loved. And I miss those things so very much.
As I prepare myself for making a more intentional attempt at dating, I’m realising that I’m going to have to kiss someone again*. I’m going to have to let go of my fears and let someone get close to me; I’m going to have to let someone make me feel vulnerable—and hopefully loved.
I am a little excited about first kisses and the electrifying joy they may bring. I’m excited about the idea of meeting someone to laugh with and talk with and hold hands with—someone to just be happy with.
But I’m afraid of first kisses, too. I’m afraid of first fights. I’m afraid of first holidays. I’m afraid of first evenings snuggled on the couch watching a movie. Mostly, I’m afraid that if I try dating again, I might fail. And I don’t know that I can handle the pain of failure.
It’s funny, I wasn’t afraid of first kisses before I met Paul. And you’d think that at 40 years old, I would have enough experience to not be afraid now. But I guess that life’s lessons have left me a little bit timid and a little bit scarred.
Still, the best way to tackle fear is head-on and with determination—so bring on the frogs and let’s see if I can find me a prince!
* In fairness, I have had couple of kisses since Paul died, all from a man I know who I thought liked me. But, sadly, it turns out his intentions were dishonourable and deceitful, leaving me hurt and humiliated—and adding to my fears of re-entering the dating (and kissing) game!