It’s Not About the Kiss

Often, when my wife or I leave for some engagement, I try to plant a long, drawn-out kiss on her lips.  Usually she starts giggling after a few seconds, and after a few more seconds, starts to pull back to terminate the lip-lock.

I especially try to kiss her for a long period of time when she’s most rushed to get out the door, to try to remind her that there just might be more important things than food shopping or going out to a meeting.  I don’t think she gets it.

The overwhelming passion I feel when I am around my wife is, well, overwhelming.  There is occasional reciprocation on her part; I’m always happy when it happens, and mostly discouraged when it does not.  I get the feeling that her participation in the touchy-feely part of our relationship is out of a sense of duty rather than out of desire.

I can’t get enough of my wife.  I wish the feeling was mutual, but rarely do I feel that she can’t get enough of me.  Is that what decades of marriage does to couples?

I miss being 28.

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