One of my lovers is dating “the tempest”. She seems to have boundless energy – I feel exhausted merely listening to his litany of their dating activities – ice skating, wall climbing, pot-holing, abseiling, kayaking, and those are only the three-syllabled ones. It goes without saying of course that the sex is wild, frequent and satisfying. I suddenly feel the age difference between us and wonder why he continues to date me. Variety I guess.
My own dating is at such an ebb that I fear it has gone out with the tide. I am suddenly weary of making new connections and prefer to see or even simply message the few constant ones. Max came round on Sunday afternoon and after a medium-length walk (during which we spotted hemlock growing at the roadside), we retired to bed and watched a film. His kisses were quite warming and I felt the stirrings of a return to normality. He left at around half ten and I fell asleep shortly after that.
Lars invited me round to his again and we managed to salvage some more of my libidinal urges. It was quite re-assuring to discover that I hadn’t quite lost my concupiscence and I drove home feeling happier.
I listened to a radio programme on soul music and it was refreshing to hear a couple being interviewed whilst on their honeymoon in London. They’d had a long courtship and engagement – almost quite unheard of in this day and age but just to hear the jouissance in their voices held my attention as they recalled how and when they realised that they wanted to spend their whole lives together. Somehow, it made me miss and long for a similar relationship for myself. I don’t mean a marriage in the conventional sense, but an understanding and trust that someone else has my back as I would have theirs.
When I was at Jan’s on Friday evening he had brought up something similar for discussion – having someone to return home to after a day at work or a business trip – he’d asked me if I ever felt lonely or in need of company. It would be comforting to be able to return to a partner who would be as attuned to your mood as you would be to theirs. Did we necessarily have to live together though or is it enough that we can talk to them, reach them through any one of our modern devices? Of course it’s always far better to have their physical presence – to be able to hold someone close can be more satisfying, yet at the same time possibly draining of our energies? We have both been living on our own now for some time and I know that I value my independence and freedom. A relationship would only work as long as that freedom and independence continued.