Finding love is like getting a seat on the metro. And to find a seat you have to board the metro early enough or someone's journey has to end and you must be next to that person to take their vacated seat. No one can deny that love is both a game of chance and game of survival. It is a game of beginning and end with some overlapping travel time. Yes, one waits ahead of the other in atleast one leg of the journey. But everyone's journey comes to an end!
I experienced lust before love, to be mathematically precise (lag variable) there was a 15 year delay between them. Hope I'm not making it sound like a drought. After two relationships, when I question the very existence of love, it makes a cameo appearance and reminds me of its existence. Not sure if I classified it rightly, but I kept asking myself is it love or love bite? Isn't it human nature to analyze, assay, and seek proofs and validations?
It was definitely not a typical morning after feeling. I slowly and silently get out of bed ahead of him, brush my teeth and close the kitchen door and busy making coffee and packing my lunch. He must have entered while my back was facing the door and the turntable in the microwave was busy heating a mug of milk and the motor was humming. What he did was almost like a scene out of a movie.
From the behind he wrapped his arms around me and the warm air from his lungs invaded my neck and not wasting the opportunity I quickly kept the lunch box and grabbed his hand and planted a beautiful kiss on his hands. Like a breakfast pan cake, I flipped him around and spotted his hot sausage making a morning salut. I kissed him on his cheeks and I pushed him towards the bathroom to brush his teeth, while I showed him the hot mug of coffee.
"I wanted to watch you and spend time with you" responded the 24 year old when I asked him why he got out of the bed so early. I felt his response endearing and my hand with the mug of coffee began to tremble upon hearing the unexpected response. I asked myself, " what did I do this man and is he smitten?"
I have brought home a few Parisian, and only 2 of them have stayed back for the night. This is the third time he came home and the first time he stayed over. But on his second visit he told me that he would like to sleep besides me for a night. Not having slept next to a man in the last three years, I was not sure of the experience, but he was persistent. And that night he smothered me with kisses and warmed me with hugs. And during our coffee and conversation the next morning he even apologized for disturbing me the previous night with his kisses and hugs. I confessed to him that I was getting used to a man next to me in bed and that he needn't be sorry and I perfectly enjoyed being the recipient.
I have made him dinner on all three occasions and as my friend says it is my "fuck and feed" philosophy. But don't many of us feel hungry after sex? While cooking that night I asked him what excuse did he come up with to spend the night away from home. He smiled and said it was the clichéd friend's birthday.
After dinner we didn't have fight over the TV remote, while he was watching French television in the living room, I was watching an episode of Indian sitcom on my iPad. He must be after half hour, he came into the room to check on me. Seeing me curled up in the bed, he planted a kiss on my cheek and found a comfortable spot for him in my blanket. Should I call him an intruder or a house cat?
Though I have been mostly attracted to older men (for reasons of emotional maturity and experience), my two earlier exs' were younger than me. And this young man exhibited maturity and care in our conversation and intimate moments. Never did he utter the word love, but had his on way of expressing himself that made me ask - is this love? Is he in love?
And when I opened the closet to pick out the shirt, he sat up in the bed, his pupils dilated and he confessed his fetish for men in formals. He picked up his mobile and took a few pictures while I was dressing up. How could I go to work with so much of love in air?
I sat on the bed besides him and planted a few more kisses and even check out the love bite I gave him the previous evening. I asked him to get back into the bed and sleep for a little longer.
That evening I came home to an empty apartment and something was missing in the air. Not sure what it is, I opened the windows and I went straight into the bed room. I lay down on the bed he had made and picked up blanket and pillow to get a whiff of him. Something that was there last evening was missing now. With memories stirring up my thoughts, I texted to check on him. He immediately responded saying that said he was back home and that his mother spotted the love bite on his neck and curious to know more about it, but he remained elusive. And I promptly apologized for the embarrassment, but said he was proud to sport a love bite.
Ten years after my first love, I realized how people could come over for an evening and leave you with an emotional love bite that may never physically manifest, while I had expressed my love physically through a bite, his love came through as an emotional bit. Love, bites....
