To a man thirsty for intimate love, as I have been, the world often revolves around a certain other person, and it is divided into two states:
1. She does not allow me in her intimate space (and I want it)
2. She allows me in her intimate space (and I fear its revocation)
Stress plagues the mind in either case, urging me to somehow sneak my way in or to keep and express the traits that brought me there in the first place. "What did you like about me? I'll be that! As long as it keeps you with me!"
Both states spur my will to be something that I am not. If I still want it, I am lacking what helps me get it, (Confidence? Musky smell? Terse muscles?), and I must somehow change, or show it to her, to get there. If I already have it, it's probably because of that thing I was or did or said. Well, I can't be it or do it or say it all the time, but I'll look for ways to express the same. Was it a joke? I'll be funny. Was it attention? I'll listen to you more than I like. In either case, these are static attributes, scabs of a past time that I sneakily keep and reproduce to be "that same person", and keep you with me. They're not the fresh me.
Then one night I was invited in. I had done nothing. I did not feel infatuation. I did not feel an urge from her side. I received a clear, neutral invitation to fully cup her genitals with my hand, and I accepted it with no further hidden hopes. Complete eye contact while she placed my hand between her legs. My body felt relief, and our eye contact continued. No sneaking. No invasion. No shame. I entered her intimate space without earning it. Without maybe-regrets. Without fear of it falling apart. We saw and acknowledged each other with a clear look, that just said "yes, this is what is happening now". And it meant nothing besides itself.
I felt something inside me shift. The desperate teenager stuck in me had been handed over "the treasure", the "goal" of his world into his hand. And there was nothing it meant, and nothing he had to do or even could do to to keep it. His mind calmed down. "What now?", it asked. "Nothing", I replied. He realized he need not strive, understand, sneak, hunt, woo women with whatever worked at the moment. He can just be. And with him, so can I.
1. She does not allow me in her intimate space (and I want it)
2. She allows me in her intimate space (and I fear its revocation)
Stress plagues the mind in either case, urging me to somehow sneak my way in or to keep and express the traits that brought me there in the first place. "What did you like about me? I'll be that! As long as it keeps you with me!"
Both states spur my will to be something that I am not. If I still want it, I am lacking what helps me get it, (Confidence? Musky smell? Terse muscles?), and I must somehow change, or show it to her, to get there. If I already have it, it's probably because of that thing I was or did or said. Well, I can't be it or do it or say it all the time, but I'll look for ways to express the same. Was it a joke? I'll be funny. Was it attention? I'll listen to you more than I like. In either case, these are static attributes, scabs of a past time that I sneakily keep and reproduce to be "that same person", and keep you with me. They're not the fresh me.
Then one night I was invited in. I had done nothing. I did not feel infatuation. I did not feel an urge from her side. I received a clear, neutral invitation to fully cup her genitals with my hand, and I accepted it with no further hidden hopes. Complete eye contact while she placed my hand between her legs. My body felt relief, and our eye contact continued. No sneaking. No invasion. No shame. I entered her intimate space without earning it. Without maybe-regrets. Without fear of it falling apart. We saw and acknowledged each other with a clear look, that just said "yes, this is what is happening now". And it meant nothing besides itself.
I felt something inside me shift. The desperate teenager stuck in me had been handed over "the treasure", the "goal" of his world into his hand. And there was nothing it meant, and nothing he had to do or even could do to to keep it. His mind calmed down. "What now?", it asked. "Nothing", I replied. He realized he need not strive, understand, sneak, hunt, woo women with whatever worked at the moment. He can just be. And with him, so can I.
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