Like the seasons, all relationships have times of budding, growing, beauty, withering and dormancy. Sometimes the forces of nature even cause violent destruction or catastrophic losses. Many times the after growth is evolved, stronger, more vibrant and brilliantly beautiful. In the end, love is defined by how we weather our seasons.
I’ve had the distinct pleasure of knowing many couples that have weathered the storms over 30, 40, 50 and 60 years plus. I once asked a good friend, Cookie, how she had managed to get through 57 years of marriage and still be madly in love. She said, “We haven’t always been madly in love. We had times where we down right disliked each other, sometimes for years. We’ve made it through three affairs. Coach had two and I had one lover. When it comes down to it, a good strong marriage- that survives- is the same end result as a tragic divorce.” She is absolutely correct.
I have five siblings whom I’ve watched go through the seasons of intimacy. They’ve all gone through and experienced the same seasons my friends have allowed to end in divorced. None of my siblings have ever faltered. Each have stood strong during the storms long enough to see the sun come out of the clouds. Because I’m part of the family, I can testify to the fact there have been times they have down right disliked each other, but somehow they let love do its healing.
Ultimately, we define ourselves as adults and must take responsibility for our short-comings regardless of our childhood or past. There are times, the battles we have fought form parts of our personalities we struggle to face. My circumstances have made it difficult for me to weather the natural forces of destruction and loss. Therefore, I’ve made many mistakes. I also have not been perfect in love.
Falcon has changed many of my thoughts about love, intimacy. He is like thunder- this is how he will often communicate. I’m electric like a bolt of lightning. Sometimes when a person rumbles, I strike straight, while other times I’ll split several times striking multiple points simultaneously. Needless to say, Falcon and I parted ways after engaging in an intense clashing. The destruction was devastating. It is going to take a long-time to rebuild what we left in the after-mass.
When the storm calmed and the sky cleared, there was still love humbled by the pain of loss. I no longer cared about what caused the storm. Instead, I was mortified at how we had treated each other. Our cruel words, in the heat of emotion, were nothing short of pathetic. How could we be so careless with the person we love? How could we be so careless with us? I didn’t want such a wonderful relationship to end in destruction. I desperately wanted to fix what we broke, so we could at least mend. It will take the time of hard work and dedication. I am strong enough to make that commitment. More importantly, I want to make an effort to repair my wrongs. It’s because despite what transpired I can’t say I don’t love him. I do, it’s not even a question, which led me to my next epiphany.
True love is knowing there isn’t anything you can’t weather. When you bottom out (with nothing left to give) love finds a way to warm your heart. The same thunder and lightning that caused the storm brought us passionately back together in a gust of fever. What was meant to be a gentle hug of regret and sorrow- was met with a firm grip followed by a light kiss, which was received by determined lips. I didn’t fight going into the storm. I wanted to be drenched in the moisture of intimacy. I was chasing it with enthusiasm.
Falcon’s hands caressed the small of my back pressing my torso tight against him to feel his desire. My breathing quickened and the subtle noises of yearning started to escape my throat. His hands quickly found my flesh removing the clothing, vulnerably exposing my naked curves to his desirable touch. In that moment, we were the only two essences. The outside world was gone.
Our lovemaking started in the doorway, moving to the center of the livingroom, with open blinds, then to the coffee table, onto the sofa, up the stairs, finally making it to the bed where we entangled ourselves like two tumbleweeds being tossed across an open desert floor. We were free in our expression of physical joy, letting go and expressing without reservation. We flowed…we flowed beautifully for four hours. I felt nothing but the piece of light. Falcon was masculine, manly and strong. He was also a little softer in his caress.
The emotions are essences of warm silk sliding across my body. The logic of leading Falcon to my bed is twisting into the fibers of silk with reasoning of bought. To Be Continued…
