Life is brutally unfair, filled with moments of such tragedy that we struggle to recover. We spend many of our days enjoying the little mundane things. We witness friends and family settling into jobs, relationships and marriages, unfulfilled. What little passion was in their eyes fades.
For some of us… that is simply not enough. The inconvenience of true love, the playfulness in shared passion, the authenticity in longing for another – and being longed for… transcends the need for settling for a simple life, with a simple person that we simply do not love.
The One That Got Away: Memory of a union where the sheer vibrancy of real intimacy eclipsed fantasy, however fleeting, sustains our sense of self. We were, or are, young once. Americans are often obsessed with becoming adults, getting financial security, the right pedigree and settling for the lowest common denominator in a spouse. The golden years are filled with memories of good, bad and indifferent people and places.
What we should be teaching ourselves is a fine appreciation for the moments where we are most honest, most authentic, most in love. Experiencing it once…means there is always hope. Perhaps the one who got away will return, or perhaps you are the one that got away. You know who loves you without reservation or judgement.
Patience in matters of love and sex requires great self-discipline. Those who are too eager cheapen the act of love, the act of sex and the beauty we should find while intimate. No one falls in love with the WalMart of Sex.
The Return of The One: The fantasy of love at first sight, and the survival of love despite the interference of others, leads to a mental, spiritual and physical experience unparalleled by anything the eager have to offer. The warm touch, the soft kiss of someone who knows and embraces the essence of you… the heat and dampness of their breath… the smell of crisp sheets and sunlight… strengthens the bond. The intensity should embolden our spirit.
Such moments of vulnerability are where love exists… and if The One never returns, or you never return… delight in the reminders… a song on the radio, or the smell of a fine Bordeaux, fresh chocolate or night blooming jasmine. Remember the overwhelming sense of being consumed…
— Media Lizzy