Updated Weekly.
/The Anxiety of Falling in Love
Weak in the knees and all a tremble
The evening I first met Alex, we talked about Marquez's masterpiece One Hundred Years of Solitude. I remembered struggling to read that book. Marquez takes such a long time to set the stage in his novels that I just couldn't get through the initial 20 pages. I'd try and put it down and try again. Finally I decided to pick up the story at page 50. It ended up being the best book I've ever read. So much so, that I stopped reading fiction after that. I didn't think it could be outdone.
My favorite line in the book is what has become the truest axiom for me about love: "The anxiety of falling in love could only find repose in bed." It was with Alex that I first truly understood this idea.
When I'm really smitten with someone, I tremble with erotic energy. I literally go weak in the knees, my brain fills with a thick haze and I can barely speak. I certainly can't articulate with any intelligence or grace.
And so it was with Alex. The first time I laid eyes on him, I felt shocked; shocked at his beauty and at the recognition in his eyes. I was moved that he clearly was as struck as me.
I've heard it said that our biggest fear, as humans, isn't the fear of dying, it's the fear of not being loved. In me, the fear of being vulnerable, of meeting someone I can truly open up to, surfaces in these moments and renders me mute. The idea of being able to make love first and ask questions later applies so very aptly here because it's really all I can do. The sexual tension is heavy and until it's flushed out of me, I'm at a loss for words.
The first time we were alone together, I was soft and tentative as I touched him. My hands shook, my eyes twitched and I could look at him directly, but not for very long. Instead, I grabbed him, kissed him and pulled him into me. My back slammed into the wall and all the tremors in my body funneled into his. I was gyrating, breathless, panting and utterly absorbed. We stepped together backwards onto the bed, bodies still entwined, the rhythm of our grasping never missing a beat. The most natural place to go, and the only place I could go was into total surrender. I couldn't speak; my words were clumsy and stuck. My body spoke for me, and in the background, every once in a while a line from the music that was playing would rise up into the space and say the things I couldn't.
My favorite line in the book is what has become the truest axiom for me about love: "The anxiety of falling in love could only find repose in bed." It was with Alex that I first truly understood this idea.
When I'm really smitten with someone, I tremble with erotic energy. I literally go weak in the knees, my brain fills with a thick haze and I can barely speak. I certainly can't articulate with any intelligence or grace.
And so it was with Alex. The first time I laid eyes on him, I felt shocked; shocked at his beauty and at the recognition in his eyes. I was moved that he clearly was as struck as me.
"The anxiety of falling in love could only find repose in bed."
- Marquez
- Marquez
I've heard it said that our biggest fear, as humans, isn't the fear of dying, it's the fear of not being loved. In me, the fear of being vulnerable, of meeting someone I can truly open up to, surfaces in these moments and renders me mute. The idea of being able to make love first and ask questions later applies so very aptly here because it's really all I can do. The sexual tension is heavy and until it's flushed out of me, I'm at a loss for words.
The first time we were alone together, I was soft and tentative as I touched him. My hands shook, my eyes twitched and I could look at him directly, but not for very long. Instead, I grabbed him, kissed him and pulled him into me. My back slammed into the wall and all the tremors in my body funneled into his. I was gyrating, breathless, panting and utterly absorbed. We stepped together backwards onto the bed, bodies still entwined, the rhythm of our grasping never missing a beat. The most natural place to go, and the only place I could go was into total surrender. I couldn't speak; my words were clumsy and stuck. My body spoke for me, and in the background, every once in a while a line from the music that was playing would rise up into the space and say the things I couldn't.
Previous
Zseike
I'd made a playlist hastily before he came over. I hadn't realized exactly how poignant it was until there would be a moment of quiet repose - such as when one of us had just had an orgasm and we lay, stroking and holding each other - and the music would suddenly seem very loud, and a phrase would emerge like a thought bubble.
Hours went by. Every once in a while, between orgasms, I'd attempt conversation, or he would, but it was still stilted and awkward. Everything became instinctive: touch, movement, sound. I felt entirely connected to him, that our sexual energy was weaving threads around us and to us and slowly in the wake of that could I start to find my voice. Once I did, I spoke from a different place. I felt even more myself than I had in a long time. I felt strong, whole, still and at peace. I was infused with so much satisfaction in the expression of his constant touch. We'd woven a cocoon around each other that was now thick and impenetrable. My body had found confidence in his.
"We'll stay inside til somebody finds us
Stay inside our rosy minded fuzz for days."
- The National, Apartment Story
It’s that space – that wholly vulnerable and exposed space that acts as the glue in relationships for me. I have to dive down deep to get there but once I’m there, I stabilize and I can live from that place. At that point, my whole world shifts. From there, I hope never to return.
Hours went by. Every once in a while, between orgasms, I'd attempt conversation, or he would, but it was still stilted and awkward. Everything became instinctive: touch, movement, sound. I felt entirely connected to him, that our sexual energy was weaving threads around us and to us and slowly in the wake of that could I start to find my voice. Once I did, I spoke from a different place. I felt even more myself than I had in a long time. I felt strong, whole, still and at peace. I was infused with so much satisfaction in the expression of his constant touch. We'd woven a cocoon around each other that was now thick and impenetrable. My body had found confidence in his.
"We'll stay inside til somebody finds us
Stay inside our rosy minded fuzz for days."
- The National, Apartment Story
It’s that space – that wholly vulnerable and exposed space that acts as the glue in relationships for me. I have to dive down deep to get there but once I’m there, I stabilize and I can live from that place. At that point, my whole world shifts. From there, I hope never to return.
- 05/18/2009
