Like the First Kiss

Eleven likes in the morning. Twenty-four by noon. By dinner, 106,000 people had followed suit. Now close to bedtime, it has been viewed 15 million times.
 
Fine. I’ll watch the damned thing.
 
So I clicked and sat back. If you haven’t already, here’s your chance: Twenty Strangers Kiss for the First Time.
 
Sure, it’s pretty, all those smooth hipsters giggling in their scruffy not-quite imperfection. It’s hard not to feel a flutter. The discomfort is as much a buzz as the moment of contact.
 
Still.
 
So what?
 
Isn’t this the easy part? Thrill and freshness? The zing of discovery?
 
It doesn’t take more than opportunity and impulse to make a new encounter seem. . . well, new. It’s drive-through intimacy. The lasting variety has a much more difficult job. It has to tap deep down into the old to reveal something new.
 
The trick is not getting 20 strangers in a bare room to kiss for the first time. It’s getting a couple 20 years in the same bed to kiss like strangers for the first time.
 
That’s the video I’d like.
 
Like to witness. Like to live.
 
Like to be so lucky.