Or to put it more accurately, I’m thanking myself for putting down the kindle or stepping away from the computer for a while to pounce on SaM.
Both of us, over the last few months, have settled into a comfortable routine in the evenings. After guests have gone, housemates are in bed, the cats are doing whatever it is cats do when you turn the lights out, and things have quieted down, we can relax. Our evenings typically involve sitting and reading blogs, playing one of the games we own, reading books or just sitting quietly until we fall asleep. It’s good, healthy, quiet and relaxing.
“What’s wrong this that?”, I hear you ask. Nothing at all, unless that’s all you do, every evening, night after night. Neither of us have had the energy for the kind of knock down, furniture breaking, neighbor frightening, cat terrifying sex we love. Out of our concern for each other, for our lives we’ve let ourselves fall into the habit of banking the fires of our sex lives until we do have that energy.
This denies us a very vital part of our love life; intimacy. Seeing her laying on the bed on her side, knee pulled up, light spilling across her naked thigh and the swell of her breast as she reads is an incredibly erotic sight for me. There is nothing about her actions, words or behavior that stops me from initiating a night of wild sex. It is my own self imposed limitations.
What I realized last night, is that those self imposed limitations, based on the reality of both of our physical and mental health right now (I was in the hospital last weekend, after all) has not only stopped us from the nights of wild, raucous monkey sex, but has gotten in the way of plain, simple, intimacy.
With that realization, I did something I haven’t done in months. I turned to SaM, asked her to put away the laptop and kiss me. Just that. Nothing more asked, nothing more expected. Just kiss me.
When we first got together we would spend time just exploring each other. Sitting, holding each other, kissing, rubbing, petting. Physically and emotionally intimate time together, with no expectations of anything more. That’s not to say things didn’t often move on from there to some of the best sex I’ve had in my life, but that wasn’t the goal. There was no goal.
Last night started with a kiss, a caress and cuddling. It ended up with a soft, sensual and pleasant evening for both of us. There wasn’t a lot of heavy breathing, sweating, bruises or even any rope. We didn’t have sex. We made love. It was exactly what we’d been missing.
This intimacy led to several hours of conversation about a lot of things both of us have been worried about. I found myself able to ask her some pretty scary questions and answer hers as well. Without that inimacy we’d shared earlier, neither of us would have been able to do that.
We’re going to Duckstock in June and are conserving our wild monkey-sex energy for that. It’ll be a celebration of her birthday, of my new job, of quite a few things going on in our lives. Until then, though, we will be rebuilding that intimacy, that sense of openness and sharing, that lack of expectation in the ourselves that is so important in living in that golden moment.
Wish us luck.