Two And A Half Hour Orgasm

It's hard sometimes, putting into words your most profound experiences. By its very nature, you're already diminishing its value, thinking that you can put down on paper what is so much bigger than words. But that is the challenge of every writer, I suppose. Sometimes it's easier than others.

I met someone last night who will go nameless because most of my friends here in Sarasota, Florida probably know who he is. It's a small town and people talk. I think he might have created this image of himself being "steely" or "unapproachable" or even "unobtainable" and I wouldn't want to ruin that, now would I? ;-) ...Yet.

Actually, I had met him before, both online and in person. We're both very head strong and we both had a lot of walls up then. So we clashed. Hard. Didn't get along well... at all. Arguments ensued even. "Who do you think you are?" Blah, blah, blah. Young angst. Fast forward a few years later. Run down. Defenses weakened. Older and wiser. Unsure now of whether we want to hit the other or kiss him. Always a great feeling.

We talked online for a while last night and there was just this intense, electric chemistry. The more we talked, the more it seemed like torture that we weren't in each other's presence. So I went to see him. He gave me vague directions (think breadcrumbs), hoping to circumvent the merger, that I might give up. I did not. He was too beautiful and my heart was beating too fast. I found him. He was rightfully impressed.

He looked exactly like the first guy I ever fell in love with, this straight guy from high school, Jonathan, but with dark hair. Cuter than him even. Hoody jacket and a baseball cap he kept turning every which way. Physically, he was my personal idea of perfection. I was literally shaking from nervousness when we kissed.

We spent the evening getting to know each other and making out inbetween. We walked around a pond and talked about our careers and our past relationships. When the subject of open relationships came up, we clearly differed. I tried explaining that I felt a relationship shouldn't be based in sex, and that if you have someone's heart and soul, why would you need more? He made a good argument though, saying, "That just sounds like a friend who is your fuck buddy."

Wow. How did he know that's exactly what I've been with for nearly two years?

He went on to say, "Why can't you have both? All of those things? Being in a relationship is being a partner and it's about giving 100%. No, 110% actually so that even if you slip, you'll always at least be giving your all. Monogamy is symbolic of that, of putting the other person before you. You give up certain things for the other person, you give them a piece of you, physically AND spiritually. Why would anyone settle for less?"

I had mentioned yesterday that I have come to the conclusion, as I approach the new year, that I have settled too often in my life on so many levels. I've settled for less than what I am worth in my career, certain friendships and relationships. But I hadn't yet thought of how you can settle for less in sex. Not only when it comes to sex with your partner, but sex when you're single even! Why settle for less than the electric chemistry I felt last night? Why have random sex with a stranger who you feel absolutely no connection to whatsoever? Maybe it's having been in a real, loving long-term relationship. But that kind of sex is just not the same for me anymore. I'm not learning anything from it. It's not even as good as masturbation.

I'm not saying I need to be in love with someone to have sex with them! But I'm saying, I need to have shared a real "moment" with that person and be sharing more than a cock and a hole. I hooked up twice in Indiana and it felt... empty. Like a chore. Like a cheap imitation. And that, too, is a form of settling that I ready to extricate from my life.

Last night was real. It wasn't settling for anything. On any level. And that was like, better than one two and a half hour orgasm. Better than vicodin. Better than all the chocolate in the world.

Whether I ever see this person again or not, I will never forget him for the moment we shared and for reminding me, yet again, of things I used to believe I was worth and that they could be attained. I forgot people like him existed.

...And that they would find me.

And recognize me.