I was reminded about the power of closeness today. Just yesterday, when Mark and I watched a film, and he played with the hair around my ear as I had my other ear pressed against him, I felt this intense calm and intense agitation. It is the strangest feeling imaginable; how every cell can be on high alert and process every single sensation under the touch of a finger, and how someone in that situation can feel like time stands still.

gayhugsThen when I look up and see that he’s watching me with this light in his eyes and his usual wry, crooked smile. There’s this way his eyes becomes soft and easy when he’s happy. Somehow they smooth out. In reverse, they harden and become more jagged and sharp when he’s angry. More focused, more intense.

The most difficult thing is to describe how those feelings I had could fit in one human being without splattering everything onto the walls. Rightly, I should burst like a balloon pricked by a needle. Obviously, the pressure of the emotions should cause an explosion. But there’s this calm, this tranquillity that shuts even the voices in my head, and an hour of just lying there goes by so quickly.

Compared to that, I pity the ones that only seek sex, and who shy away from this.Is that bad and judgemental to say? Is that being prejudiced and intolerant? I don’t want it to be, and just want to say that I don’t understand it and I want people to have this.  Is this what people don’t want when they say they don’t want commitment? To me it is a bit like saying, “I’ll eat this dry piece of rye and not the sumptuous meal over here”. Is this commitment ever problematic, or dare I say it scary? Or inconvenient?

I am trying to think up some scenarios in my head where I would want to limit it, but all I can think of are purely material situations of having a career and earning money and earning status. But isn’t that to run away from this awesome, powerful thing, and isn’t there a chance that when one stops running in the hamster wheel that this thing is not available any more?

I mean, how could sex ever be compared to the electricity and power of feeling his breath against my skin? Of feeling his fingers twirling my hair around my ear? Of seeing the reflected light from the television shine back from his eyes? Sex is such a pale, empty vessel compared to that.

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