On April 13, 2013, a Thai couple kissed on the mouth for 58 hours, 35 minutes and 58 seconds. They intrigue those two seconds to complete the 36th minute, that they couldn’t bear to continue kissing.
In the kisses that one cuts before time there is the beginning of the end. Because in passionate kisses or kisses of love you don’t think about anything other than dancing without stepping on the other. You close your eyes, don’t think, kiss and that’s it. But it is impossible not to think about anything, to have your eyes closed, to dance without moving for 58 hours, 35 minutes and 58 seconds.
In the kisses that one prolongs or that one holds, there is the end of the beginning. There is that terrifying moment of the diver who encounters the shark, which is to open his eyes and find that the other one already has them open. And kisses don’t deceive. If they kiss you wrong, it’s going wrong, it’s going wrong, it’s going to go wrong. If they kiss you well, it’s also no guarantee that the relationship will suit you, but at least it’s intuition that points you to the abyss and then, already in the disaster, you can always claim intuition as an exemption of article 20 of the Penal Code.
Surely the Thai couple when they stopped kissing and saw that they had a couple of seconds of kissing left before another minute fell, they wondered what had happened to them. But if they did, they knew the answer by heart: we had it, Jim, but we don’t have it anymore.
What did they do once they got unstuck, after those 58 hours, 35 minutes and 58 seconds. Did they return to life as a couple as if they hadn’t been in each other’s mouths for more than two days? I want to think that, after the kiss of embarrassment, tiredness, who knows if tenderness, they ran away, terrified by the mere thought that the other would want to recover those two seconds of kiss that were not made. Those two seconds that told them that was just a record.
