Roughly eleven years ago I had a bizarre and somewhat inexplicable experience. Wendy and I were having a small get together with the two of us and a couple of female friends. At some point Wendy began telling them how I had a really remarkable intensity to my kissing. That is, there was something about my kisses that was amazing but couldn't be chalked up to technique. One of the women there asked if she could test that out herself and Wendy thought that this was a great idea.
Anyone who knows me will not be shocked that I was totally on board with that plan!
I knew that I couldn't just deliver a quick peck and have it work - I had to get myself psyched up to do it properly. That took a minute or so and then I walked over, embraced the lady in question, and gave her a long, intense kiss. When it was over she was wide eyed and flushed and I had to catch her to prevent a small stumble. (Okay, maybe I didn't *have* to catch her but I had plausible deniability.) She agreed that there was something special going on and that technique was not it.
During the kiss things inside my brain were in a strange place. I felt like the world was on fire and the heat was whirling around the two of us leaving us untouched while everything else in the universe was incinerated. I couldn't bring myself to care about that though because the rest of the world was irrelevant and the two of us were all that mattered. After it ended I came back to myself and was tired, feeling like I had done something really draining. I described it to the people there and said I could do it again if asked but noted that it was difficult and exhausting. No one quite knew what to make of it all but I think it was good party entertainment at the very least.
For years I had no idea what exactly it was that I did to myself at the party. I knew I could do it again if I had to but I didn't exactly have a lot of volunteers to practice on and I certainly couldn't have told you what the hell was happening inside my skull. Now I can. All I have to do is look at this in the light of having multiple personalities (see my last two posts) and it all falls into place.
As usual The Director was in charge during the party but The Director can't kiss like that. Passion, on the other hand, can *only* kiss like that. So what I did was forcibly slam Passion into the driver's seat for a minute, deliver a Passionate kiss, and then The Director shoved his way back into control. Passion only wanted to continue with far more than kissing but that wasn't an option so I had to revert in short order. Passion is hot and while he is driving my blood is pumping and adrenalin is running high so the feeling that the world is burning fits perfectly. So does the sense that the world went away because Passion cares about nothing else when locked in an embrace. Finally the sense of exhaustion at the end is easily explained by the effort of forcing two swaps in quick succession and the acceleration and deceleration of my body as part of that.
This makes it clear to me that my current mental arrangement is not new. I have been this way unknowingly for at least a decade and most likely much longer than that. I can't pin any event or situation down as something that may have caused it, if indeed it isn't just the way I was born. What I can say is that every couple of days since I have first realized I am defined by two extremely different and distinct personalities I have had a new revelation about how they have shaped my relationships, hobbies, and life choices. It is a wonderful feeling to suddenly see myself so much more clearly.
I wonder about three things now. First, how many great revelations can possibly be left to me? Shouldn't I at some point completely figure myself out and be done with introspection? Somehow it seems like I should be running out of surprises by now.
Secondly I wonder what exactly about Passion elicits such reactions from people. There is something about pure, raw, well... passion, I guess, that completely transcends the basics of body positioning. The Director wants to quantify that so he can do that himself, in a careful and controlled fashion. I suspect that is completely impossible.
The last thing I wonder is who the woman was that I kissed eleven years ago at that gathering and whether she remembers it exactly as I do. A gentleman does not kiss and tell... but I couldn't tell even if I wanted to because although the event is crystal clear in my mind the person I was kissing is shrouded in the fog of memory.