The Moment at the Inaguration

This is what I wrote to Emily, in the moment and without hesitation or re-writes, describing in a little more detail what happened on Inauguration Day (you can read more about my thoughts on that here), on the National Mall, in Washington DC, the day we met:

I was already ready to do whatever she said when she decided to go seek out the mall with me. We laughed together as she served up softball questions for me to knock out of the park. Maybe she was testing me. Hitting me with first round stuff to weed me out. But for twenty minutes or so, I could think of nothing else but her, even though we were in the center of the universe.

Then, the ceremony started.

Things got ugly.

Her face became stern and serious and she stared down the green, taking it in.

The chants and jeers started from those around us, and I was overtaken by the ugliness of the world.

It seemed that she was the only good left, and it made me sad to look at her.

There were moments when the idea to kiss her jumped into my mind. It seems funny now, because I am so accustomed to the idea. But then, it seemed a dangerous move. She hadn't mentioned a boyfriend. Did she even like guys?

I missed a prime chance, right when they introduced him. So I guess that I could say that the kiss was premeditated. It was not spur of the moment.

There, where the whole world was watching something, where big events that people will be talking about for years to come, I found personal connection. I found someone who I could talk to, but more, who I could communicate with. And I knew it. I wondered if she did. Did she want me to do something, to kiss her?

She turned to me and said, "Okay, do you want to get out of here?"

Yes. I did.

I grabbed her and leaned in.

At first, she didn't know what was happening, but it was too late to abandon the move now, she would figure out what had happened even if it wasn't successful.

She almost flinched away. Convention and what 'is supposed to happen' almost won. But then, I was there.

It landed right on the money, and then... as the kids say, it was on.

The kiss was good, perfect. Our mouths fit and it was not awkward. She leaned back into my hand. I drew my other one up to her hip. It lasted longer than it had to, several pumps with no tongue.

Then I drew away and smiled. She said something I can't quite remember, maybe "That was bold."

"Something good had to happen." Also not spur of the moment. I thought that one up before as well, just in case she demanded an explanation. Of course, if things had gone sour, now that I think about it, that is a classicly shitty reason for men to think they can touch women. Because it is 'good' and they had no choice. Fortunately for me, it WAS good, because I really did have not choice.

I try to think about what would have happened since then had I not done that, had I lost my nerve or submitted to convention. But I abandon this quickly because I don't care. It wouldn't be as good as this is now.

There is nothing that could have happened that didn't. Life is moving forward, and as long as I let it, it will continue to do so.