Kisses of the Devil
It’s 10:00 AM, the morning of the 21st of February in 2018, and I choose to write;
“I am the light of the world. I carry the light in me wherever I go.
My spirit guides me best to act in light and to be light. The purest of light is always there to touch, within me. We all carry it, for we are all light.
Herein lies our equality, and herein lies our peace. Here is where we are together; here is where we are one and in union. Here we know how to love unconditionally, and here we see love in its purest form.
God is light, and God is love. We are light, and we are love.”
I contemplate whether I should put the meaning of this day into words, and I decide, that yes, that day was the first step I had to take to find the light inside me, and so, I absolutely should.
And so… I write;
“Nine years ago, on that day, the 21st of February, I had my first three kisses, if you’d even call them kisses. My first three pecks on my lips… not my cheek.
It was in Aswan, on a class trip, and I was sixteen.
It was nice, it was fun, it was exciting, it was forbidden. It was very forbidden, but we did it as ‘friends’ and took the curse away.
Or so we believed.
We did not understand back then that there is no curse, but the one you believe you bring on yourself.
Or maybe it was a curse, for all three of them silently walked out of my life.
Or maybe, it was me who thought I should leave.
It stayed our secret for a couple of years, and then we stopped counting.
It was the day we’d look at each other and smile like little devils, as if we’d done the most obscure, but funniest thing in our lives.
Year by year it became a memory of regret for some and shame for others. Would things have turned out differently, had we not done it back then?
We must have been stupid to allow our minds to deceive.
Maybe we’d have never cursed our relationships and our faith, had we not done it. Or so we believed.
We thought our three pecks on our lips were kisses of the devil, for he must have been with us in that room. He must have silently been smiling at us, as our lips got closer and closer, butterflies filling our stomachs and my heart.
He must have been laughing loudly, as we discussed that the umbrella of friendship purifies the desire not to keep our bodies apart.
He must have been holding my hand as I laid eyes on her, falling in love with her red curls and her vibrant life energy, my heart pounding in my chest, as I came closer and closer to her. He must have been praising me. So I thought.
And after years of what felt like the best mistake we could have done, I learned I had to make friends with the devil to learn how to find the real love in me.
He somehow knew, he knew I saw a different side to him, and so he let me.
Without that night of what some of us called shame and regret, I’d have never been the me I am right now, a ‘me’ fueled by a different idea of love, a different idea of desire, a different idea of pain, all thanks to these three little pecks on our lips, where for a moment, thankfully, we let ourselves just be.”
A dear memory, rephrased in my mind, and my heart.
