Two Worlds, One Kiss

I have always loved dating. I have always loved being asked out — in a bar or a MacDs or even a dating app. I like the ritual of it. All the awkwardness. The frivolous fainting over the perfect dress. The thrill of dressing for someone else. There is nothing giddier that two people trying to impress each other.

There is danger — a raw, inviting danger — of where this night could go. Where our lives could go. Leaving one bar for the next. Why? Why do people on first dates bar hop, I will never understand. Maybe they want to see their date walk past more people, just to be completely sure that they are attractive and that they are not just letting the pheromones fuck with them.

When they have the bar’s envy, and a resolute confirmation that their date is, indeed, attractive the night begins. And how! The overfamiliarity bubbles in the banter. Taking jabs at each other, going for riskier and riskier punchlines. Pushing boundaries just to find where they are.

I like the duality of it all — the obvious difference between the conversations their bodies and mouths seem to be having. It does, so often, seem like a dance to the first kiss. The whole world just seems like a dance, a setting, leading up to the first kiss. I love the uncertainty of it all. Like nothing could go so wrong that you might die tonight, but there is a little voice in your head daring you to find out exactly how wrong could it go.

Skinny dipping in Nanyang Lake?
Stealing hamburger buns at 6 AM from the van that pulled up behind MacDs?
Shady dance bars at 8 AM?
Making out on top of the ArtDesign&Media building?
Getting arrested for public nuisance?
Every date, a little adventure — two complete worlds coming together, two complete ways of living, two complete ways of loving — two complete worlds dancing toward one kiss.