vinylgirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Pleasure of Good Company As he was tying his shoes -- about to leave -- he joked about why he was such a good lover. I laughed. But not at him. For he is the best lover I've ever had. He doesn't believe me, but it's true. Last night we had wonderful, hard sex. It wasn't painful or uncomfortable or filled with instructional interludes. It was effortless. Like watching a professional athlete perform. He made it look easy. He mastered the ratio: depth and pressure without weight but instead with fluidity of movement. Effortless pleasure for both of us. As I locked my door, I found myself chewing on the word: lover. I hadn't really thought about it in that way, but that is exactly what this is. I've taken up a lover. It sounded much better than the crass, we fuck every once and a while, or the modern, friends with benefits. It aids an air of refinement. We are lovers. Seekers of pleasure without dependence -- without loss of self. For the first time, I am able to compartmentalize sex. I have built a firewall between physical pleasure and my emotions. Maybe it is the influence of Kundera. I am almost finished reading "The Unbearable Lightness of Being," and I find myself pondering his exploration of love and sex and relationships. I find myself drawn to the life of Sabina, a painter who keeps a couple of lovers and lives independently. There is no less intimacy than the couple who shack up. Less pressure. �Perhaps all the questions we ask of love, to measure, test, probe, and save it, have the additional effect of cutting it short. Perhaps the reason we are unable to love is that we yearn to be loved, that is, we demand something (love) from our partner instead of delivering ourselves up to him demand-free and asking for nothing but his company.� Maybe this is the secret. I don't ask him to sleep over. I don't ask him over for or out to dinner. We simply spend time together: Having wonderful sex and talking about music or politics. I don't worry about whether he will call as he pulls himself out of me. We savour the moment and enjoy each other's company. A brief reprieve from our stressful lives. Lives that do not intersect. And not because we are hiding each other, but because we know what this is and what it isn't. Part of me wonders if I have the strength of independence to live like this for the forseeable future. Can I stand the solitude? Instead of love, will I have lovers? Or if this is merely a way station on the route to my next love? And what happens if the man I fall in love with next is incapable of giving me pleasure? Can I accept companionship without passion? Or will I always need to seek pleasure outside of it? 12:56 p.m. - 09/08/2012 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||