I used to bite my lip.
It was a habit I picked up as a child. Whenever I was nervous, anxious, apprehensive, introspective, or simply contemplative, I would chew on my lower lip. I might have worried that someone would look upon this practice as sign of my inner thoughts, but there are so many emotions that brought about this action that I gave up worrying about that quite early on.
The biting was a compromise with my parents in a way. When I was small they would get quite upset because I would grind my teeth whenever strong emotions struck. This was abominable behavior in the minds of my dentist parents. After innumerable scoldings, I finally got the grinding under control.
Instead, I began biting my lip. Not always an attractive display. It had the tendency to make me look like a particularly harried beaver, forever gnawing my way through whatever textbook I happened to be devouring. The effect was only amplified by my unfortunately sized front teeth- the constant culprits of this feasting frenzy.
Thankfully, during my fourth year of school, there happened to be an incident that allowed for a few slight alterations to my smile. While many believe I care very little about the way I look, I honestly cannot bring myself to regret the lessening of the size of my top incisors, my one concession to vanity.
I will also say that this event altered my lip-mauling tendencies, though it did not stop them.
With my new teeth, my normal pattern of obsessively worrying the front of my lower lip was shifted. No longer could those bony protrusions easily reach that slightly indented fleshy center without causing a massive overbite.
And so I was left with no other option. Instead of simply pressing my incisors down into that pink-colored tissue, my left canines, and even my bicuspids, are now party to this illicit activity. Yes, I admit it. I am a now not only a lip-biter. I am a lip-sucker, as well. I suck that plump lower lip up into the reach of my new weapons and bear down, nipping, gnawing, licking and pulling that flesh until it is damp and slick and rouged with the blood trapped beneath the surface.
Yes, I am an enthusiast. A voracious lover of the unconscious suck and nip of my lip-related weakness. Even the occasional rawness that accompanies such avid mastication can be eased by the warm slide of a wet tongue across my smarting lips. Oh, how it soothes the sting.
Writing it all down seems almost sinful.
The point is, I used to grind my teeth. I used to bite my lip. Now, I do so much more. And I enjoy every moment of it. Every nip, suck, and savor-able lick helps relaxation slide over my being, my body, my mind. Oh, how I love to bite my lip.
But only on the left side. I am right handed, you see. Sinking my teeth into the right side of my lip would be like wearing a watch on my right wrist. It wouldn't work. I'd only feel crooked and askew and as if I were about to tip over at any moment. Not at all conducive to relaxation or contemplation.
You know, having two dentists as parents might have had an odd effect on me. I think I may have an oral fixation. Perhaps that's why I have such an obsession with Professor Snape's…. well, I'll leave that for later.
