There is something to be said for a
really great, toe curling, warmth inducing, happy hormone producing
kiss. That wonderful feeling of being connected to someone you love
and who loves you right back. There are lots of songs about kissing
and how wonderful it is and most of the time I would have to agree.
Even a kiss that's not toe curling can still make you feel good.
Connected.
I am sorely – pun intended –
missing out on this part of my married relationship right now, and
have been since about mid December. Almost four weeks of no kissing.
And, get this, it's making me really cranky.
I suffer from cold sores. Huge
revelation, right? It doesn't usually bother me, but after four
weeks of PDA-free living and lack of lip contact I am feeling the
need to vent. I hadn't had an outbreak for almost a year and perhaps
I got a bit cocky about it. Bragging internally, “yay me! cold
sore free.” I should have known it wouldn't last.
The second week of December Jim had
dental work that required an extraction. Kissing wasn't really on
his mind for the following week. By the time he had healed up enough
I had bronchitis followed by a clockwork pattern of cold sores on and
around my mouth and lips.
If you've ever had the displeasure of a
cold sore – I feel your pain – right now my bottom lip looks like
a moonscape. If you have been able to live your life without the
pain of these insidious sores, allow me a moment to describe how
nasty they are.
The virus lives in my body. It hangs
around waiting for an opportune time to make itself known. It
usually starts as a little warm and tingly spot on my lip or on areas
around my mouth and or nose. Within a few hours blisters start to
appear. These are usually preceded by pain. Hot, searing, prickly
pain. They are small little blisters that you really wouldn't think
too much of, but dang it, they really hurt. Sometimes they are
small, about the size of a pin head and I can sort of ignore them.
Other times, more recently, right now, it's a never ending cycle of
blisters, scabs, bleeding, and mess. Anything that touches my lips
feels like spiked sandpaper. And this makes me a no kissing zone.
Because, and yay, really, it's not enough to deal with already, they
are really contagious! One kiss could lead to my husband or kids
having to deal with this viral nastiness. I'd rather not share.
I really miss kissing. It's not
something I ever really thought about. I didn't need to think about it
because kissing in our house is abundant. I kiss my kids foreheads
and hands and lips at various times throughout the day and especially
at bedtime. I kiss my husband before he goes to work and when he
gets home and just randomly as opportunities present themselves.
Right now, he looks at my lips and runs the other direction.
Sure we bump into each other
accidentally on purpose in the kitchen or bathroom and he smacks my
butt every once in a while, but I really miss kissing. The song
lyrics, “you don't know what you've got til it's gone.” I get
it. It's gone. For now. Temporarily – THANK GOODNESS!
I'll be really grateful when my lips
heal. And I'm grateful that I have people in my life that accept my
kisses and kiss me back.
