is a kiss just a kiss?

I went to kiss Sue tonight. We went out on a date, at my behest. First time in almost three months. I started kissing her a bit passionately... more than just a quick, close-mouthed peck on the lips. 

She wasn't too keen. 

She'd told me before she didn't like kissing. 

Tonight she told me why.

Her father used to kiss her that way...

I'm not really sure what more to say. 

I wasn't too surprised, in a way. I knew he had abused her, the b@$+@rd. 

In a way, it made me feel a bit better. 

At least I knew her rejection of my kisses wasn't personal. It had a reason. It was something I could be (and am) compassionate about. Something was beginning to make sense. 

It was also a great breakthrough because she was actually talking to me about something other than the weather, the kids, the mortgage, etc. 

We were having an actual intimate conversation! Wow!

Did it break my vow to kiss her? I hope not. I think we both knew from the outset that it was not going to go to sex. 

I am beginning to think that my blog might be morphing from the story of one man's quest to live for a year in a relationship without sex. The new blog may well be one man's quest to come to terms with the results of his wife's childhood sexual abuse.