Looking Down the Barrel of a Brand New Day - COMPLETED

Part Two - Chapter Eight

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Jack

Ceci, did you try to kiss me last Sunday? 

When we parted, I was going in for a hug, but you seemed to be angling in for a kiss, then re-routed. I couldn't tell if you wanted to nail me, but chickened out, or I was too fast with the hug and you missed your big chance.  

What do you think? 

Ceci

I wasn't thinking about anything really just a hug and run. But I like all your ideas. 

Tell me more. It's good. It was a really nice lunch. It makes me happy to hang around together. After, I think I was whistling while I was doing my chores!

Jack

I'm doing shots of TheraFlu-Express Max-Nighttime. Settin'em up, and knockin'em down. Starting to crave "Berry Flavor". 

Focusing on blowing my nose, and dying.

BUT I definitely have theories about you kissing me:

First, we can quickly discard the possibility of Chaos Theory. Mostly because I do not know what Chaos Theory is.

Second, aerodynamics can be excluded because we were in my car, a sealed compartment. The internal wind speed was zero. I have always admired your face, but never for flaws which might create sufficient turbulence to cause your face to crash into mine.

Last, religion fails to explain what happened. Sure, religion is very good at solving the riddle of mystery babies with an incubus who impregnates women while they sleep. Happens all the time. But what does that have to do with you trying to make-out with me? Nothing.

I think that covers everything. Which leaves only one scientific explanation: You tried to kiss me.

Please don't resist the gravity of the logic. There is no other answer. Well, maybe a few, like the one you offered.  But those are un-exciting options.

Case closed.

So, now I am lying in bed with five inches of toilet paper hanging out of my left nostril. After three days of blowing, the vessels popped. A cascade of blood. The perfect segway to another kissing mystery:

Years ago. In Detroit. I went to a banquet hall for a highschool re-union. 

I caught up with old friends, but found myself spending the last hour with my 5th-6th grade girlfriend, Lucy. We broke up in Junior High, completely lost track of each other, separate parallel universes.  Only in our senior year did I see her again when she was crowned homecoming Queen.  

At the re-union, she was still beautiful, independent, and IN-CHARGE. In 5th grade, age 10, she would open doors for me while telling onlookers, "WOMEN'S LIB!"  She was now married with a bunch of kids. We got along great. Still entirely in rhythm after maybe 15-20 years apart.

We closed down the re-union. I walked her to her minivan. There was a hug good-bye. Or at least that's what I was doing. But she had other plans. She started kissing my neck. I must have missed every clue because I first thought the wetness and movement on my neck might be tears. No. She was definitely kissing my neck. I was entirely okay with this. Honestly, who could possibly object to being kissed by a girl. That's madness. But I was caught off guard. Instead of just going with it and letting her continue, I pulled back to look at her. It must have been too abrupt, or she lost her courage, because she looked at the ground and seemed embarrassed, maybe even ashamed. Like a complete fool, I figured the best way to not make her feel worse was to just act like nothing happened. We parted. And we have had no contact since.  Complete disaster.