Convo with the Kissing Bandit: 11.28.03
KB: So you gorge yourself again today?
Moi: Hell yeah. In good food, company, and conversation.
KB: Cool. Me too.
Moi: And any other mischief of late? It’s been a while since we talked.
KB: Yeah, well, I figured I’d stay clear of your drama for a while.
Moi: Pretty bad, wasn’t it?
KB: Yeah. Big drama. Dynasty Drama. Falcon Crest Drama. Who shot Bobby drama.
Moi: Though no shower dreams of Patrick Duffy.
KB: Thank gawd.
Moi: And yourself? What the haps?
KB: Conversations with both of the boys I’ve kissed in the last month or so.
Moi: And?
KB: It’s nice to know that I’m kissable. It’s nice to know the boys are far enough away as to not involve messy tangled thorny strings. One told me I had the softest hands. He remembers that. Two hour long conversation. Carnivals. His mom said hi to me. His brother smokes the same cigarettes as I do and that fellow finds it effeminizingly disturbing. But yeah, he really likes my hands.
Moi: Nice. With your reputation for handjobs, I’m glad to hear that someone takes note.
KB: Bitch.
Moi: Smooches.
KB: A boy in every port, but none nearby to snuggle with…which is actually pretty ok.
Moi: You mean that? You really ok?
KB: As good as one could hope for.
Moi: Me too.
KB: Happy thanksgiving.
Moi: Yeah. Thankful for lots of good things in my life. And very thankful to be reasonable distance from the not so good things.
KB: Werd. In the meantime, just kiss the boys and make them cry.
Moi: Before they …
KB: Don’t answer that.
Moi: Yeah, I know.
KB: You’re good about a lot of things. You’re open. Your honest. You’re fair. You have the courage and the will and heart to have wonderful good things happen for you and exceptionally kind people bless your life. So don’t feel like you can’t …
Moi: Yeah, I know.
KB: You know you know. So don’t doubt.
Moi: Last year, I was calling someone on the phone to wish them happy thanksgiving. I was wondering if they were missing me. I realize now, he couldn’t even say my name while in earshot of his sister.
KB: Coward. Asshole. Fuckwad.
Moi: I know. But also someone totally capable of goodness and greatness.
KB: Not to you. He was lousy to you.
Moi: Not always.
KB: Enough so.
Moi: Not unforgivable.
KB: Not unforgetable.
Moi: I know. I know. At least I have answers.
KB: I respect your heart too much to tell you to “just get over it” because I know that you, the way you’re built, your not built like that…to shed emotions like the skins of reptiles, to replace friends like worn toothbrushes.
Moi: Yeah. I was talking to someone earlier tonight about how.. well… I think it’s fantastic and right that in olden times, folks used to *die* from heartache. That the complete and utter surrender to intense emotion could physically manifest. That there was something totally amazing about that.
KB: But Romeo & Juliet is a tragedy, not a romance. Remember that.
Moi: Oh I know. I just also know that the way I’m built, I don’t fall often, but when I do, it’s hard.
KB: You know, I’m … actually pretty proud of you.
Moi: Why’s that?
KB: This time around, even though his side was all…whatever, you… you were good. You were actually pretty great. You were honest. You were brave. You didn’t hold back on yourself with as much reservation, doubt, and fear like you have in the past with other relationships. Remember H* or L*. Even B* when he fucked up your head pretty well.
Moi: Too long ago was that, wasn’t it. Wow.
KB: You sure do pick them.
Moi: Hey man, you’ve had your share as well. You just hide your tragedies better.
KB: True.
Moi: Trust me, I don’t want to die of heart ache.
KB: If your thing with B* didn’t kill you, then you won’t.
Moi: That was 7 years ago and I’m a shitload stronger now. And the thing with B* was… totally fucked up. I’m stronger now.
KB: Start singing Brittany and I’ll bitch slap you.
Moi: Doy.
KB: You should get laid.
Moi: Why? Like doing that would make me feel any better? It’d be a distraction sure. And fun. But ya know, that’d be bullshit to do. It would make cheap my emotional investments and value in intimacy. I’m not dumb. I know how I am.
KB: So just kissing the boys. And maybe, making them cry?
Moi: Sure, why not.
KB: Cool. I always knew you had potential, kiddo.
Moi: Yeah, new lip gloss in the meantime.
KB: The trip to Sephora’s on me.
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