I don’t know if I will ever kiss again.

Many times after a bad break-up, we find ourselves uncertain if we will ever be ready to love again.

However, in my case, it is not the heartache of a torrid love affair which has me questioning my desire for further romantic possibilities.

It is more the aftermath of a kiss gone terribly, terribly awry, which is giving me second thoughts.

In other words, I have been traumatized.

There we were. He was a friend. I was dropping him off at home. He asked permission to kiss me goodnight. Somewhat stunned by the advance, I allowed it.

I expected the traditional goodnight peck. What I got instead was a sloppy, open-mouthed assault on my face.

Had I known in advance what a truly horrific kisser he was, things could have been different.

For one, I might actually be able to look him in the eyes from this point forward without wanting to burst into hysterical laughter.

Instead, I am left to replay the moment again and again in my mind and wonder: how does this happen? And more importantly, what can I do to stop it?

I do not think that men realize the severity of this situation. You have very few attempts to prove to a woman that you are worthy of her affection. One bad kiss could result in the demise of your relationship, and not to mention, your reputation.

I cannot date someone who is a bad kisser. I just…can’t.

Not only that, but I shouldn’t have to. At this stage in development, I should be able to assume that you have mastered the art of kissing.

If you are not up to speed, it is not my job to teach you. You had time to figure this stuff out. It was called junior high.

Some men, however, can be overzealous about those eighth grade make-out sensibilities.

But please allow me to stress that you need to have a game plan before you try anything fancy.

I don’t care what you have to do ahead of time. Make a diagram, practice on your little sister, whatever. Please just get this right.

If you are slipping tongue five seconds into what I am anticipating to be a fleeting goodnight kiss, we are going to have problems. At least wait and see if the kissing will even persist past the thirty second mark before you go wild.

Otherwise, I’m going to end up prematurely pulling away from you, and you’re going to end up licking my forehead or something.

And that’s just awkward.

Then, the next day, I will be sharing the horror story with my female friends and in an extremely shrill voice, I will proclaim, “I am so frustrated by how bad that was!”

I will probably repeat this phrase a half dozen times during the retelling. This is bad for two reasons: 1.) my voice gets annoying when it gets shrill, and 2.) you now have a snowball’s chance in hell of ever scoring with any of my friends.

Often, though, a man knows when he has screwed up the kiss. This is not, however, a good time to ask, “was that bad?”

Do not ask this. If you have to ask this, you already know the answer.

Besides, if you ask me to tell you the truth, I am probably going to give it to you.

Odds are you will not be able to handle it, and I might even feel responsible to foot the bill for your therapy. And I have a lot of books to buy this semester, man.

Anyway, I’m not going to be able to lie to you, because I am the worst liar who ever lived.

You’ll know right away, too, because my fibbing is always marked by my darting eyes, fidgety hand movements and a general inability to choke the words, “no, you were fine,” from out of the depths of my throat.

My honesty, on the other hand, is usually marked by phrases such as, “um, well, I pretty much thought that sucked.”

Basically, I simply cannot say, “no, it was really great when you blocked my air passage with your tongue and I couldn’t breathe.” It is not convincing. And lying is only worthwhile when it is convincing or when you are up for re-election.

Women don’t want to lie. We want to enjoy kissing. We don’t want to have to worry that you are going to screw it all up so badly that we can never enjoy kissing again. That’s all.

Not to put too much pressure on you or anything.

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