I feel I should expand upon that kissing business. I only intend to add to this blog once a week, since I am going to make a serious effort to get the novel ready to send to editors/agents in some kind of effort to interest one of them. But since I spent so much effort today trying to remember what I've been doing with myself for the past year and a half, it seems I have not done this latest letter justice. I know I talked about the kissing before - years ago, it seems now, and indeed it is, actually, years ago. But I don't remember if I quite described it sufficiently. I don't even know if I can do so now. It was, after all, 47 years ago, and I know I have alluded to this little memory problem I have. Nevertheless...
Kissing - it was a carnival of kissing, as I recall. It seemed we never could kiss quite enough. Not long enough. Not sweet enough. And yet, kiss long and sweetly we did. Don't ask me about sex. 47 years ago, I was 16 and still virgin. It was the in-thing in those days. It wasn't to last much longer, but sweet 16 I still was. I'm certain there was some groping here and there, but when I plumb my memory for anything that even went above my knees or inside any article of clothing, it isn't there. What is there is simply long, looong, loooooooong sweet kissing. I think we talked and laughed as well - well enough, anyway, to make a three year-plus correspondence out of it, but I can't remember any of that. I remember deciding to go to a meeting (we were at a conference, after all). We never went. The lips would not allow it. Lips that simply could not leave each other along. Soft. Insistent. Sweet. No world but this sweet. Now, I've been kissed long and sweetly several times in the intervening 47 years. But, when I remember any of them, there is so much more to remember. When I remember David Knepper from Washington, D.C. (there! someone will know him - just remember it was 47 years ago!), whom I only knew in person for - was it as much as a week? Only a weekend? I do not remember that. I remember kissing.
Kissing - it was a carnival of kissing, as I recall. It seemed we never could kiss quite enough. Not long enough. Not sweet enough. And yet, kiss long and sweetly we did. Don't ask me about sex. 47 years ago, I was 16 and still virgin. It was the in-thing in those days. It wasn't to last much longer, but sweet 16 I still was. I'm certain there was some groping here and there, but when I plumb my memory for anything that even went above my knees or inside any article of clothing, it isn't there. What is there is simply long, looong, loooooooong sweet kissing. I think we talked and laughed as well - well enough, anyway, to make a three year-plus correspondence out of it, but I can't remember any of that. I remember deciding to go to a meeting (we were at a conference, after all). We never went. The lips would not allow it. Lips that simply could not leave each other along. Soft. Insistent. Sweet. No world but this sweet. Now, I've been kissed long and sweetly several times in the intervening 47 years. But, when I remember any of them, there is so much more to remember. When I remember David Knepper from Washington, D.C. (there! someone will know him - just remember it was 47 years ago!), whom I only knew in person for - was it as much as a week? Only a weekend? I do not remember that. I remember kissing.
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