It’s Not About Sex

The other night, while was lying in bed, I suddenly realized that what I miss, more than anything, is spending the night tangled up with someone.

It’s not the sex I miss. I miss the trust and the intimacy.  The closeness.

It’s been too long.

Really too long.

I actually wish I could say that I don’t remember the last time.  But that would be a lie.  I do remember the last time.  And remembering it, really thinking about it, still makes me well up with tears.  For lots of reasons.

Anyway.  I miss that.  A lot.  A. LOT.

More than the daytime hours companionship. More than having someone to lean on. More than I should.

And ever since I started to think about it, I can’t seem to think about anything else.

Not good.

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