Wednesday, December 24, 2008
keeping sex out of it
So how do you keep sex out of it. I do try. I know that this friendship is not of a sexual nature ultimately. I feel a kind of familial pull towards him. I have the kind of attraction that imagines whispering together under a sheet or lying on grassy spaces pointing at clouds. This is a clean kind of love that has that longevity woven through it. It is a connection built on a love of solid things, colour, sound, texture, words and ideas. There is no possibility of complications. And yet I still misinterpret a little twang of admiration, feeling it turn deep in my belly where it becomes all mixed up in the visceral juices. A quick acknowledgement of innocent care is spelled out by a pulsing contraction. I am all mis-wired but I have learned now how to live with this cross-communication. You do that thing that I find iresistable, flexing your powers of nerdy concentration as if you would not know the effect that it has on me. I turn, predictably, into the restless swell of sexuality which develops hot and steady like dough rising. But that is fine, of course, because that is a feeling I can live with. I turn back towards my ever-beloved boyfriend and use that swell of pressure in a relationship that is maturing like fine wine. This is about me and not you but I enjoy you anyway. You make my skin peel back and feel naked. You make my mind rattle. You tolerantly turn back and make contact despite my worst behaviour and I feel like I might be made of the same stuff as you. And I want you to remain with me for many years but that is your call. For my part I will continue to keep sex out of it. It isn't hard. Have you seen my boyfriend? But I hope I never let go of you and I hope you never run off, forgetting me, and I hope there is a happy ending after all, even though I don't believe in happy endings at all.