The Matters of Love

"The only thing in love that matters are the first moments of arousal and intense pleasure that follows."

-Anonymous Friend.

I got this very interesting thought in my emails a couple of years ago from someone I respect, admire, and trust. It's given me much to think about.

The first feelings of love are those that overwhelm us and blind us to all of our other senses. The fight or flight instinct is gone in those first few moments. Casanova was said to have many lovers, but only one love. Romeo and Juliet looked at one another across the room, and it was love at first sight. They forgot for a moment all of the family rivalry issues between their namesakes. Did things loose their spark or passionate energy after those first few moments? For Casanova, perhaps that was the case, for no woman could ask a man such as him to be faithful. For Romeo and Juliet, perhaps that was true as well, for they lasted not long after that first encounter. The love and passion they felt for one another consumed them until death, however.

What of it for me then?

I am the exception to many rules, as Ive said before. I believe that the first moments of arousal and that intense pleasure that follows are very important to a relationship, and if the relationship is a good, healthy one, this very moment can happen often, sometimes several times in a single day. The two fall into each others arms, consumed by their passion for one another, and completely loose themselves in the moment.

I imagine that's the way it will be when I can finally have an unbridled amount of time with the one I find myself thinking about night and day. He fills my mind and heart night and day, and consumes more of my senses than I ever thought a single person could. What would those first moments of freedom together be like if there was no place we needed to go, nothing we needed to do? Would we be consumed by that sexual adrenaline for merely an hour? Would we feel just as much passion if not lying naked on the top of rumpled covers together? Is it possible to feel that same passion, longing, and devotion if only sitting on a couch together watching a sappy old movie? How about if we were holding hands as we walked along a dirt path in the green hills on a cool spring morning?

I know I would feel that way about my mate as we walked along in a crowded shopping mall around Christmas time, barely able to hear one another over the children shouting at the first signs of the fat man in the Santa costume. Would he feel the same way? From everything I know I desire in life, he most certainly would. THAT is how I will know that he is the one I've looked so long and hard to find.

No, I think more than the first moments of arousal and intense pleasure are important to me. I believe its the very sense of knowing that the person you love is also your best friend. Its knowing that even blinded by age, deafened by time, and crippled by long existence, the one you love will still love you passionately.

Have you ever seen the movie "The Notebook"? That's how I envision it to be the last moments in life,... and in love.

The Roach with Soul

On January 30th of 2007, Pete and I went to a blues club in a shady neighborhood with one of his old friends from college. The evening was warm and light for being January, and I instantly liked his old friend Heath. Heath was a funny guy constantly cracking jokes and pushing the envelope. Finally the hostess seated us at the only available table in the place, a small table so close to the band that the snare drum reverberated in my head. I couldn't help but smile. I was already having a glorious night.

We hadn't been sitting even five minutes when I frightened Pete with the look of pure panic on my face. That smile I couldn’t get rid of was gone.

I was sitting next to Pete’s right side when I saw it out of the corner of my eye…

Crawling on his shoulder was one of the largest roaches I’ve ever seen in my life. The thing was monstrous. It was no thinner than my large toe, and the length was around that of my thumb! Horrified, all of the color drained from my face. Pete turned to look at me just then and grew very sober, seeing the look on my face and the ghostly complexion I knew was visible to anyone within sight.

“What’s wrong?” I stood there, watching the roach crawl up his arm towards his neck. It changed direction and went over the bak of his shoulder instead. Hoping it would find its way to the back of the seat, I said nothing. “What is it? What’s the matter?” He kept prompting me. Stalling for time, I began to stutter slightly. Finally, the roach reared its ugly head on the other shoulder and began working its way down towards the suit pocket on his left pectoral. That’s when I squealed.

At this point, Pete’s prompting me had gotten the attention of Heath and his lady friend Brook, as well as some of the neighboring tables. Heath didn’t see what I had seen and thought instead the look on my face was one of complete rage. He said later on that it looked like I had it in my mind to kill Pete – or at least severely maim him. At my tiny squeaky squeal, Brook followed my gaze and saw the ugly bug. Her face widened in alarm and she began to squeal as well. Finally I spoke up.

“Pete,” I said calmly and slowly, “You need to remove your jacket,” I paused, and then shouted “NOW!” I finished quite a bit more forcibly. Understanding a situation of urgency from my expression, Pete shed his jacket faster than I’ve ever seen him remove any article of clothing. He danced a bit, trying to shake off his invisible attacker. I shuddered when I didn’t see it on his jacket anymore and immediately picked up my feet from the floor. For the rest of the night I sat on top of my feet, not caring that I was in a dress.

Heath got a big kick out of me squealing at a bug like that, so Pete jumped to my rescue.

“I never told you,” Pete started. “You’ll never believe it – she found a spider in my room once. Ya know what she did with it? It was a big, ugly, hairy Wolf spider.”

“What DID she do? Scream?” Heath chuckled to himself.

“No,” Pete sat up straight and proud. “She scooped it up in her hand and carried it outside to let it go.”

I earned new respect that day...


(Photo taken at work around that same time, me blownig kisses to Martha the Chilean Fire Spider, the Office Mascott)