In looking at the years of our involvement and entanglement I find where I love you so openly that the awareness of your breathing is an enlightenment, that it causes me peace and an opening into such a place of value and fortune. It was not always like this. There were times when I panicked at the thought of being with you again. where I would do anything to escape another escapade with you, where I was sure I was in danger if I continued talking to you, times when only defying you made sense. I have never seen a love more tenacious than you. I have never been held on to more vehemently. And yet you are graceful. And yet you are the most graceful man I have been near. A large bird. A swan. At times biting mean. If I get too close. Protective. Territorial.
This is what I am discovering about making love and about sex: there is, if there is enough of it, of sex, and the loving or rather, to be clinical in my investigation of my discovery, a making of love out of what time brings; time and time and time in bed with each other is bringing love into it and intimacy. The intimacy and the sex is bringing the love out. Out of me anyway. I do not yet know his words. Not about love yet. Not about the word love though he is articulate in detail of the ways he wants me and the ways of me he discovered that brought him to want to be my love and my lover. Now he is and he is happy and enjoying it so and wanting as much opportunity to be in my presence and in my body as he can. For him he discovers my company and then discovers his lust for me and his lust grows and grows and is tireless until it finally drops into rest and we rest. Out of me there are words of love and adoration and tenderness. I am giving myself to him. I am giving my self to him over and over again and the giving is more each time so that I lose my self a bit into him and the love I feel for the beautiful of the world and my place in it is finding his soul in which to abide. In the deep part of him behind his eyes I go and have such trust there. I am not afraid of a thing. I am willing to give myself to him in ways and ways and ways. He asks and I receive and give and take and allow. I am the yielder in my body to him and he asks me if he can do what I want. He asks me what my desire is that he might say yes to it.
I imagine you are sleeping. I imagine you asleep. Dear dear new love in me how is this love becoming you inside me. how does life become as sweet as it is with you inside me this way?
I love you. 3 small words so easy to say and I say them so easily. I love you. I love you so. There, 4 small words. One day you will be a child out in the world because of all I am doing to build you. I have decided to keep building you so that you will love in the world really. Not just in my dreams but in the day. Day after day in the world and little me in all my unreadiness, I am finally ready for you. I am finally ready for all of it. I am capable, you see?
These are the love stories. These pages are the pages to write love stories in. no one takes them away. Everyone reads them sometime. It is what we all feel. Strive to feel. Search to have so we may feel. We want to build. We are building and tearing down and building again and when it is in front of us we marvel and think we will never want to see it crumble, no. Someday it will be time to crumble or time to let it go but now it is for me to hold tenderly and marvel at this very small and overwhelming truth of loving out of friendship and sex and play has become this love story I am in. I am in it. I am in the love story.