Damn Mistletoe.

At a party a few years ago I shoved a guy up against a wall and kissed him. It wasn’t a romantic thing or an attraction thing; it was to show him who was boss. (It made sense at the time -- just go with it.)

I have often seen this gentleman in the intervening years in common friend-of-a-friend type situations. At first I think he was intimidated by me and waiting for the next impulsive semi-inappropriate attack. But we soon settled into your garden variety power dynamic of looking for ways to stick it to the other person while pretending to be friends. We would hurl insults at each other, loudly make fun of each others’ lovelife (or lack thereof), all under the pretext that we were picking on each other like friends do. But I believe it was clear to all onlookers that there was a clear struggle for dominance. Or maybe the struggle for dominance was only on my side.

I have no idea how I fell into such a pattern, but it likely started years and years ago when I met him. Add a little attraction to the mix, and you have me throwing him up against a wall and kissing him. Did I mention that I then fake punched him in the stomach and walked away? Yup. Classy, all the way.

It was just a matter of time before the tables were turned. And oh how they turned.

We ended up at a holiday party together where Christmas had exploded. Of course there was mistletoe, and I did a fairly good job of avoiding it until it was time to leave. You can guess the next part: I was thrown up against a wall and assaulted with kisses while the other holiday revelers hooted and hurrayed. And then, as if it was nothing at all, he walked away.

Next kicks in my side of the power dynamic. And hey, I have the attention of everyone at the party. “That wasn’t even a good kiss!” I yelled at him as he walked away. Bad move. This was a challenge, and he turned and came after me again.

This power dynamic started so long ago I can’t remember what triggered it. But what puzzles me is why I kept it up for so long. Although I saw him infrequently, we kept this up for years. I wasn’t getting anything out of it, and moreover it’s rather exhausting to be caught up in a power dynamic like that. And furthermore, I’m a caring person! Why wasn’t I showing that side of myself to him? It was time to let go of any hang ups I had about appearing to be in control. And for letting go, hey, how about this very moment?

We had an amazingly hot kiss under the mistletoe. Onlookers later commented on their jealousy. There was a rhythm to it. There was a cadence. It was as if we were having a conversation with each other that ended with us drawing out the last words in perfect agreement. There was also deafening cat calling coming from all sides.

The first moment I drop all attempts at showing I’m more in control than he is, and I am thoroughly rewarded. Any benefits of a power dynamic can’t hold a candle to that. And that, kids, is the moral of the story of The Hot, Hot Kiss Under the Mistletoe. Merry Christmas!