Musings on shared experiences

“I hope you enjoy the sex as much as I do!”

“No?”

“Well, given what you’ve told me about how it makes you feel…”

He was very apologetic. He looked so genuinely sorry but at the same time so very happy that he could make me feel that way. I know he loves me. And I do enjoy our sex in a way that is both visceral and transcendent. It’s amazing. But.

I want to share that feeling with someone. Not only be taken there with someone, but share that with them. And if it hasn’t happened by now with him, it won’t. It makes me sad.

I suppose I should be happy. I know this won’t be a permanent relationship. That leaves a space for someone in my future with whom I can share this feeling with. Some day. I should be able to be more excited about that prospect. And still enjoy the magnificence that is my current sex life. And I have two magnificent partners. Both are amazing lovers. Head and shoulders above all the other lovers I have had over the years.

But the frightened, jaded parts of my mind are pointing out how long it took to find this feeling at all. And the astronomical odds against finding it ever again with someone else, let alone someone I can share that feeling with. Then I will have lost it forever.

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