There’s Plenty More Where That Came From, by Pete

I’ll never forget what one young lady told me after we had spent literally hours making out in the vehicle.

It was the back seat of a Chevy Suburban and we were parked out by the woods all night long, on a cool night early in the autumn.

Part of the time we went out on the ground with fallen leaves blowing around in the breeze. Really it was Caveman style, with Cavewoman.
You’d have to have been there to know what I mean. Ah, picking up some kiss tips. Learn by doing. On the job training. Could it have been even better?

Over the years I’ve forgotten many things. I remember once in math class the light bulb lit up and I suddenly understood trigonometry and logarithms, like I could use them for something. But now I can’t remember what was  I going to use that for. I just remember the enthusiasm, that I finally got it.

Scenes like that moment out on the grass, in the autumn breeze, under the moonlight, the trees swaying a little, maybe some raccoons or skunks walking around and watching respectfully…that’s what strong memories are made of.

That night just will not erase out of my memory banks, no matter what else happens. Now that’s how you really learn to kiss. And it’s one of the ways how to express love, in action.

So the next evening, I guess my car was either broken down or we were car-pooling–that detail has faded, as to why–but she drove out in her car to pick me up for a ride. I mentioned what we had been getting up to last night. After all, I already knew it had made quite an impression on me.

She smiled, and said “there’s plenty more where that came from.”

I had no idea then that that had been a Pearl Bailey song in the really old school days. I associate the phrase with my own memories. T o answer the question, could it have been even better, the answer is, it was good.

But it could have been better, if I had even more kissing techniques up my sleeve, for when we’re working on our night moves. Thank you, Bob Seeger.

How to Express Love

Love is all there is that is real energy in this life.
All the rest of all you see will pass away, and crumble
away to dust.  Love remains, and lingers.
That is real wisdom.
And another truth is that actions speak louder than words.

Yes, it’s true that the best way of all how to express love
is to say so in a steady voice, while looking  your loved
one in the eye:  I love you.
The secret is it is that simple. Yet so powerful.
That is how to express love.
It carries more weight of conviction when you say their name.

It is important to hear that from someone.
And likewise it’s important to express it. In words.
And in deeds.
Because actions speak louder than words.

Whether you are new at this, have some experience, or
even have all too much experience, you will be surprised
to discover how much you can still learn and improve by far in
your kissing techniques.

Because there’s a lot more power in the kind of kissing
we are talking about.  And that’s a power you can develop
by building up your insight into how it’s really done.

I don’t care if you’ve seen other lovers deeply involved in
public display of affection at school, or at work, or at play.
I am telling you it’s time for you to make the cool change,
from where you are right now, to where you can be ten
minutes from now.

These techniques will work for kissing sessions in excess
of eight hours straight, if there is time available. I’ve been
in situations like that, and what happens is maybe the time
becomes available. That’s right.

Time that didn’t seem to be available can gradually become
available when the people involved decide to drop some
of their other plans for the time being. I say gradually
because as I think back on it, I didn’t really plan for it to
go on that long when we started out.

But it was like there was no stopping it. It’s that powerful.

Overheard on someone’s face book–
Learn a Lesson in Life From This Pathetic Former Sophomore

OMG Lieselotte S,  Stone Col Fox, What up.

I ask Mr. S.’s indulgence while I make a confession I have to get out before I die.

Don’t worry, I respect that you’re married now.
To somebody else.

I just have to say this while I have one last chance, and it’s a whole years’ worth of stuff.

I could hardly explain in under 8-10 pages how excited I was to find your articles on FB and MS about what you’ve been getting up to especially since 2002 or so, and I have GOT to get it out. So this may be the biggest FB post of all time.

But You’re Mad At Me, Remember?

Even though I got all enthused, you might still be mad at me for for my odd behavior in late ’74 and early ’75, just before you went to Clown School.

You have no way of knowing how for the next thirty-six and seven years I would drag my remorse along behind me like the Ghost of Jacob Marley in Dickens’ A Christmas Carol dragged his balls and chains: even after death!

The Games Begin To Drag Me Down

That remorse started 15-30 seconds after you stuffed garbage in my locker and stormed off where I couldn’t find you. It was when I played the usual game one last time, and pretended I didn’t care that you were transferring to another school now. That’s how long it took to think….but…wait….no, don’t go…oh, no.

I saved those chip wrappers pathetically realizing they were my only souvenirs.

I’d choke up later, looking at them.

The Life-Review Flashing Before Me

I couldn’t find you until now, so frustrating, and it is all playing back like a series of horrible videos. It is my life, flashing before me, and it’s miserable to see what I let happen.

Because I just couldn’t manage to spit it out, thinking there was tomorrow. But there isn’t always a tomorrow. Now I know. Way too late.

As you disappeared in the crowded hallway I already knew you were totally right all along, because I already did know that all along too.

But the trouble was I could not put into words my true feelings, because they were too strong for me to control at my experience level then.

I was BSing and I knew I was, that Sophomore year, in Denial and Inarticulate misery.

What if?
What if my armor cracked, and you’d see right through me? Obvious now, I’d have been a happier camper, but back then it was like I got so shy around you, like I’d be embarrassed if you knew how I felt about you.

When I Get Near You, I Feel Hung-Up And I Don’t Know Why

In fact it had just really gotten stronger the month before school started up again, and I guess it got mixed up with that depression from knowing summer’s almost over, where I started to put myself down and put you up on an imaginary pedestal, imagining that you were somehow too good for me, or better, or above. Like I wasn’t good enough.

My Secret

That was all secret in my mind, and it had never been exposed.

Oh and I almost did tell you, the first time, when I immediately realized how stupid it was to say what I did say instead, and then a bunch of other times too, but something always broke the silence when I tried to choke it out.

It was harder each time because my act kept making it worse and worse.

It hurts me to drag this back up, because I see I was an idiot, but I have to tell you.

It kills me all the more that even though I hurt your feelings, and your smile went away, you still ended up giving me 200 chances anyway, which I did not deserve.

You Were So Patient Till The Last Time

And looking back, that tells me you know what, maybe she DID like me, ya think? 200 chances.

That eats away at me. It is all the more excruciating to remember that.

One More Second Was All I Needed If Only I Moved On It

And now of course I know I only needed 200 chances plus 16 to 31 more seconds to change everything back to how it should have been.

But I only got 15-30 seconds, because I was nearsighted and couldn’t see where you went. And I’ve never seen you again.

oh no, where are you, come back, it’s not like that, not really…

No pictures, no yearbooks, no nothing. But a chip wrapper, and these memories.

How Did It Happen

What BS, on the first day of school I had this exalted image of you like you were cruising around with rich guys in Camaros on dates all the time, while I was stuck walking around by the river because my brother kept stealing my bike. I did have strong legs from that, at least, I can lift 450 pounds with them, but still.

I had built up your image to a point it intimidated me, even though we got along great the year before as Lab Partners in Science. It was so much fun, and you lit up every day, even though most of my other classes sucked.

The year before? It was like 12 or 13 weeks before, when school was out, but it seemed like a long time.

What Can Change Like That In 12 Weeks?

And it was because my feelings had gotten way stronger in the process of the summer, and realizing how much I missed you, that did it.

On the first day of school you came up to me and smiled, and I smiled back, but something psychological must have kicked in when you asked me if I missed you.

The Imp of Perversity

Some perverse imp of denial took over and I heard myself lie and say “No.” (What?!)

Like if I said ‘yes, of course I did, big time,’ then you’d know what had turned into my secret. Duh.

Dumbest Moves Evah

Well, I can’t make this sound good; it’s somewhere in at least the Top 5 dumbest mistakes I ever made, and it hurts too much to try to figure out which exact number it would be next to some other ones that are pretty bad too.

So busy defending my ‘secret’ from exactly the one person who should know it, it didn’t even occur to me how hurtful (and false even) the denials were going to be.

I hadn’t planned anything. I just sort of panicked, and said stupid stuff, and then tried to stick to it. i shouldn’t have done that.

What I Didn’t Calculate

But then I compounded the first error way more, because then my Pride jumped in and insisted on pretending that yeah, I really did mean that, I didn’t make a mistake. (even though of course I did)

I mean maybe I still could have saved it if it hadn’t been for insisting that was really what I meant.

Music Break time, y’all come back

***\”I Want To Tell You,\” The Beatles, 1966 youtube, 2:37
Music Break. 2:37

Did you know that 87% of all cool web pages are totally lost after you clicked away for a minute because you forgot how you found it? So
Bookmark This Page!

*****
Yeah, so the First Day of School. And the Last Day, when you stuffed those wrappers in my locker, when I acted like I still didn’t care even though you were telling me you were transferring over to that Clown School, and in fact this was my Last chance, Number 200.

But there were 198 other times when you still kept giving me a chance I would die for now, and not waste them like I did. I can’t get over how asinine of me to waste them, so nice of you to keep taking more. Maybe you DID see through it.

Denial and Cover-Up Mode–Biology

We were in the same Biology Class, and now I act like no, I don’t want to be your Lab Partner this year. (Wrong, Denial and Coverup Mode again)

And you were hurt again. Until you went away to the left of the room, wondering what is wrong with me. And I sat there also wondering the same thing.

Even then, more chances: You still wanted me to do the dirty work when we had to dissect the earthworm, and the frog, and whatever else. It got a little more relaxed, and there was my chance to just say, you know, I really have to tell you something. But I never quite got it out.

I probably did tell you about the time I did brain surgery on a lightning bug, in that context. It got a little bit like the good old days in the Freshman year.

Like I was afraid I would spoil what lesser fun we were having. Not quite as relaxed as before, but we were starting to get a lot better. I almost grabbed a chance to talk then, but the bell rang, or that other girl would come up. Always something.

Study Hall and the Desk Game

Then the next semester, and we have no classes together, but we had study hall. And Alphabetically you sat right behind me with an empty student desk in between.

Now I acted like no talking is allowed in study hall, as an excuse to not talk. This is really deep denial, coupled by now with total embarrassment at my own pattern, yet I can’t see how to get out of it. In fact now, embarrassed at my other escapades, I start not even being able to look you in the eye, so that is actually embarrassment, not a true cold-shoulder but a false one.

There were about 100 more wasted chances right there. And in the middle of the study hall hour I would feel that empty desk start to bang into my back, and I would act like that bothered me, stop it.

But no, another side of me actually looked forward to it, like being hit was the only way that I could communicate with you any more. No more words. I culdn’t get the words out. It was weird, but the couple times you forgot or didn’t feel like shoving the desk in my back, I missed that. I was really far gone into this weird pattern by then.

And I remember sometimes, even though I refused to turn my head,like that would mean fully acknowledging you, my hand would reach back and try to push that desk back! What a scene to remember.

Heck, I would probably give up on me if I had that choice.

I know the whole thing sounds stupid. It was. But I can’t even sleep at night without getting this said in all its excruciatingly painful and stupid infamy in this article, because God has given me one last chance at that minute–if I waste it this time I’m a goner. I have to let you know–it was all my fault, I couldn’t handle my emotions which got worse with time instead of better, because after doing the wrong thing once then I felt I had to keep doing everything wrong every time. So I did. Ay yai yai.

Truth is, I lied. I really did miss you real bad, and I did want to be your Lab Partner again real bad, and everything else too, plus I wanted to talk in study hall, and know about Clown, but because you were a girl, I guess I wasn’t used to dealing with that gender enough to do anything right.

Your smiles, which I kept ruining in sophomore year, were among the brightest moments in my whole field of recollection. You were the most fun and best Lab Partner ever, and even 12 years of college later on could not hold a candle to that magic.

Nor the Army Schools either, although they were cool in a different way. Nothing compares. Because I missed my 200 chances, and there weren’t 201.

In fact I myself had to go to the Clown School in the summer to make up Driver’s Ed, because they flunked me for not having glasses during the actual semester. I guess that didn’t help anything that I couldn’t see the blackboard or recognize anybody in the hall or anything. Maybe that was what cost me the one second, in the End? Or was it just stubborn mulishness all year, and forget the one second.

I even rode my bike that summer up that hill, because my brother had moved up to motorcycles.

My Only Remaining Goal-Maybe You’d Understand

Since it’s too late now, the only few things that can be accomplished here are as follows.  One, all that hurt that I caused, time and again saying the meanest (and wrongest) possible thing I could think of, when it was the opposite of what I wanted to do, but yet I did–that’s a lot of hurt, and many years later since it was never resolved, it is psychic injury.

I would hope that with the explanation of the true nature of what was going on, would come the realization that while weird it was really harmless stupidity since none of it was even close to true at all, and therefore the repressed and latent psychic wounds of hurt can quickly now dissolve and heal. Too bad it took so long to get through, but better late than never.

Then there is my own psychic injury compounded by guilt and everything else spelled out above. Again, I hope some of that might finally dissolve and not feel so seriously demented any more. Although I’m kind of used to it by now.

And the third party benefit to the discerning reader who may identify in whole or in part with some bits of the story. Express yourself while you can, tomorrow may not be the same. Do you want these balls and chains?

And Thanks To Mr S For the Indulgences

Well, tell Mr S. I thanked him for his indulgence, so I could finally get this out once and for all before I die of old age without peace. I’ll leave his wife alone now. Just wanted to say that stuff to clear the air.

********************************************************************

So Don’t Be That Guy

It’s no crime to like someone wonderful a whole lot, usually. There could be circumstances, like later on when she got married, then you want to chill out and look around. But the trouble here wasn’t that at first. The guy had 200 chances, and any one of them, preferably the first or just before that, the best thing is to just start spitting it out.  But it’s not too late until it is too late, so Grab that chance you still have, even if you think you already totally blew it. Maybe not.

It doesn’t have to be some special way of wording it, one of the secrets is whatever the deuce way you worded it becomes special because that’s how you said it. It doesn’t matter how, just take the action while you still can.

In fact the hesitation in your voice, and the trepidation showing, is a turn on to whoever is listening, because it shows respect and humbleness, which is not arrogance the turnoff. It implies they have the choice and you stuck your neck out.  Gives them the Power, and they usually go for it then.

What To Do About It

For these and other secrets of How To Express Love, click on the links at the right side of the page and get the in-depth training for the price of a pizza. There are a bunch of free bonuses added on to the Kissing 101 program that address all the concerns we have been discussing with this poor guy’s situation. It costs you nothing to click and see more information.  Plus if it works, then the kissing. This poor sap never got that far, and look how pathetic he ended up.