We are equidistant from my place, and by 6PM both of us are racing from different directions with one thing in mind. In case, anyone's wondering, yes, women CAN have sex without love. Especially under these circumstances, that is being unattached, unbeholden and well, just incredibly alive.
I wouldn't say horny even if technically, that colored things too. But somehow, between the Broken Vagina and Virginlandia's state of grace, I'd found a strange sense of liberation. I'll leave all the politics behind, after all I'm not selling this as a philosophy by any means.
Thankfully, the sharpness melted and I'd mellowed out to this. It's an interesting circle to note, since usually stories end with some kind of lovers' union. And now I had three. Was I really united with even a single one?
It's too early to say that. The fact that I hadn't intended this, helped. It's not so much an act of will as it is a Personal Springtime. La Primavera in play. I savored the attention without having to bear the odious ego of believing I'd masterminded this. But best of all, I got to meet quite a different side of me.
So driving home to meet Kentucky, I only felt the blooming. Thankfully, none of the remonstration or questioning about morality, self-worth or guilt. I was and am, remarkably free of guilt. I have but a few minutes ahead of him when he storms in and stalks around the living room like an unleashed animal. I forget how small I am, and suppose equally didn't realize how large he is. I'd only seen him against wide open spaces like rolling green hills or massive stadiums. Kentucky's head just about clears my doorway being well over 6'5". He chatters away, nerves I think whilst scanning my delicate silk dress with a blue stare. His eyes land on my belt with purpose.
I know immediately a secret's about to come out. The pants fall, and there it is. Incongruous to his stature. NOT bad but it explains at once why he'd rushed to do this, and after a few moments, he actually comments on its size very casually as if inviting me to express dismay, disappointment or perhaps, reassurance. I go with the last one saying, "at least you're not impaired, right?"
I touch him anyway while making a note to self to avoid words like "cute" or "sweet". I know he's in knots from both my being half naked and his having crossed the hurdle of revelation. This however is as far as it gets, already proving too much for him to handle. The end is nigh. I'm thinking, NOT again. Is it me? Is there a switch somewhere?? I would sell myself as the new Viagra if the endurance component of my charms didn't want for further development. I recoup gracefully - like do I really have a choice? Kentucky however, is already dressing and happily on a discourse about why he thinks his peers' relationship sagas have put the Fear of Love in him.
He looks at me like I just suggested he should pop a zit. "Huh? I thought we were talking? You know getting to know each other a little bit.," he shifts and scoffs at the same time, "Yeah, I've gone off it, I'm not sure why but when I'm done, I'm done. It's a head thing." I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I busy myself righting my dishevelment, I am rosy cheeked and wild-eyed. Did he really think talking was what I had in mind? But okay, I can go with that. This must be how standing armies feel during peace time. Attack-ready with nary a battle in sight.
I sigh and sit comfortably next to him. He's actually quite wholesome if it weren't for the fact that he clearly over thought things to shreds. I tell him precisely that. "Yeah, I probably do. But like, my buddies from home are all married AND divorced, and it's like, it doesn't make sense." I shrug and tell him I was married before, and people usually do it with the best of intentions, albeit misguided at times.
"It was nice," I smile kindly at him,"then difficult at times - very, but no one's perfect, there's just, perfect for you." I shrug thinking of how hopes bear no escaping even for the most jaded or staunchly realistic of us. "You have to..,"I pause, "sort of love their flaws as well, not just stand them, but like get that its what makes them who they are. You know?"
Kentucky doesn't know. But listens intently anyway, like this was his Rubik's cube and he'd find a way. He would gather up the pieces and find every clue if he had to. I could see it in his eyes. The floodgates had opened and he chats even as he walks out the door through the driveway. I wave at him with absolutely no resentment or rancor for how an interlude intended to be solely about sex ended fascinatingly far from it.
And thought that for his sake, I hope he solves it. Soon.