Letter to Santa

Dear Saint Nick,

Thank you so much for the early Christmas present.  I am so happy that I no longer have to report to E3.  I know I will be an even better girl next year because I won't be mumbling so many bad words under my breath in sheer frustration.  Promise--Scouts' honor.

Santa, you saved me once this year.  Now you know, you just might have to do it again.  The other thing I want for Christmas is a Christmas kiss.  I won't even ask for a nice date or a nice guy because I realize it's all about baby steps.  I am so thrilled about my early Christmas present, so I don’t want to pester you with another huge miracle.  Wee ho! Wee ho! Tee he! Yippie! The strife is over! Sorry, Santa, I'm getting carried away with myself.

So, this is what I would like.  I'll even write it in French if that helps, Saint Nicholas:  Je voudrais un baiser merveilleux.

Remember when I wrote in my blog about First Kisses?  Oh shit, I don't know if you read my blog Santa.  You should cause it's quite the roller coaster ride.  Anyway, I wrote about first kisses.

What I want Santa is a mistletoe first kiss.  I've never had one of those, and I'm 33 years old.  I'm not complaining, Santa—I just place the facts at your feet hoping they will inspire you to grant my wish.

I want a kiss under the mistletoe, and I'm not talking a quick peck.  I want a kiss that surprises me first of all because I'm so tired of scripting things; you know I've scripted zillions of kissing scenarios in my head.  I've scripted this one too, but feel free to add to it.

I want an unexpected kiss; I don't want to initate the kiss, either.   I want him to pull me closer by placing his hand on the small of my back, to look into my eyes, and then to kiss me like he's never going to do it again.  A first and last kiss all wrapped up in one. 

So, Santa, I wish for a mistletoe kiss that will be full of passion and fire from things not done (I don't want it to go further than a kiss because I'm all about baby steps and small miracles this year), words not exchanged (I talk too much Santa, so let this mistletoe kiss speak for itself), tentative (let him wonder just a little if I'm going to kiss him back), gentleness (no immediate shoving of the tongue down the throat--I want the parting of lips, the sucking of the lower lip, the gentle probing of his tongue and then BAM! let him kick it up a notch), and desire (let me know from his kiss that he would do more if the time was right, but the time isn't right, so the only vehicle for self expression is this kiss at this moment). 

I feel very unattractive and very unlovable Santa, and a nice mistletoe kiss would keep me warm through the winter months. 

Hope I'm not scripting too much, Santa, but if you watched X-Files you probably remember the kiss that Mulder and Scully shared when reunited--their only kiss that that the viewers' got to see (damned writers).  I would like my mistletoe kiss to be like their kiss:  complete, fulfilling, earthy, and ethereal.  One moment in time that will help me get through the Christmas season alone again because you know how I get, Santa.  I don't really mean to get depressed and moody, but it's so hard for me.  All of my friends will be sharing a glass of wine with their lovers on Christmas Eve dressed in green silk chemises and kissing passionately on the couch in front of the tree.  (Well, shit, Santa, that's what I would do if I you granted my wishes from previous years and found me someone to love). Me, I'll probably be wrapping Christmas presents in my sweats drinking vodka out of a plastic Solo cup (I could also use a martini shaker, Santa) trying to silence the scripts running through my head of all of the happy couples.  Then I'll start beating myself up again (or more accurately chronicled that I will continue my perpetual self-flagellation) thinking of all of my imperfections and blaming myself for being alone and being such a first-class loser.

I hope it's not too much to ask Santa, but I could think about my mistletoe kiss while in my sweats.  Maybe, just maybe, then I won't feel so sad.

I believe, Santa! I believe you can make my mistletoe kiss happen.  I just hope you choose to grant my wish.

Love from a Somewhat Older and More Than Slightly Lonely and Jaded Little Girl,

Rachel from Philadelphia