Every year I'm asked what I want for my birthday. There are only three days left now, and what I want most this year is nothing anybody's money could buy.
I'd like to look out my door and see you standing there, a complete surprise. You'd come in without a word, slide those beautiful hands up, draw me to you before I can even ask you why you're here, and kiss me. I'd like it to be such a kiss that I forget all my usual objections, that all my little dodges, quick-witted diversions, and outright lies don't even have a chance to keep me away. I'd like it to be such a kiss that I forget that we're still just standing there in the door, barely in the house. I'd like it to be a kiss that shuts down the part of my mind that is always a little bit uneasy and questioning, always looking for the motives behind the actions. That may be too much to ask of any single action between two people, but it is my birthday, and I guess I do get a wish....
I want you to kiss me like it's a return to your native element, like it's a form of worship, like you're speaking a secret first language. I want, for a brief glorious moment, not to be made the center of your personal universe because no other person should be enthroned there, but instead for mine to be knocked out of its quiet, calm orbit and sent spinning. I want the weak knees, the racing heart, the tell-tell shiver chasing like iced lightning up my spine. I want my hands which so often move to push away for the sake of some kind of self-defense to begin to hold, to cling.
There's a beauty to this request. It requires some skill but no outlay of cash. You don't even have to mess about with wrapping paper, always problematic, those stick-on bows, which never do, or try to have something shipped here on time. Just show up, step in, and deliver. That's as simple as I can get it.
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And then you said.....