And When You Start Afresh You Still Think of Days Gone By, And When A Heart Is Broken It Still Goes On Pumping

--"He'd Be A Diamond (cover)", Blake Babies

continuing with the Blake Babies covers motif...

The last time I had sex was July 2007.

Before that, the last time was four-and-a-half years earlier in December 2003.

But I think the statistic that matters most to me now is the fact the last time I had sex with a steady girlfriend or at least somebody I was living with was October 2000. Yes, it's been almost eight years since I shared that experience with somebody I could truly call my own. Everything else after that date, wondrous and exhilarating as they may have been, doesn't really signify all that much. They were both with people that I once shared something truly magical with, but let slip away. And while it was deeply gratifying to reconnect in that manner with both of them, each of the few times we were together were pale comparisons to what it was like when we were truly together. It was like having a road trip with buddies you used to hang out with in high school. Sure, it's an amazing adventure recalling the past, recalling how truly close you used to be. In the end, though, all it does is serve to remind you about how far things have fallen apart since those suppose halcyon days. All it does is remind you how much you miss that spark of human connection that at least has a chance of prospering into something more substantial.

Yes, I miss the sex. I would be lying if I didn't say that. But I think what I miss more is the notion that whenever we had sex it was just another expression of how truly in love we were or, more importantly, how truly in love I really was. Those other times in '07 and '03, they were sorely lacking that necessary ingredient. And while at the time I wasn't exactly thinking, "hey, you know what this needs? A mystique that it's going to lead somewhere more permanent and more in tune with my life goals," I did notice the difference.

I still loved the two women I slept with. They are probably two of the most influential and meaningful people in my life, so it wasn't like I was doing it with random strangers. I just knew I wasn't in love with them. I just knew that whatever happened, it wasn't going to end up how I ultimately wanted it to end up. I just knew that, if anything, they were more a signifier our involvement with one another intimately was coming to an end rather than signifying that something new and wonderful was about to blossom. However joyous the celebration, when you're celebrating the end of something it's never going to compare to the celebrating to be had when you're marking the beginning of a journey.

Because even when you're in throes of ex sex and you're thinking to yourself, you know, you can handle being friends with benefits or something even more esoteric, what you're really screaming for is a relationship where you don't have to make up boundaries and lines. And even when you're saying you can handle this time or that time being truly the last time the two of you ever do something like that, all you can see in your head is all the days and times you did the exact same things while foolishly believing those times would never end. And even while you're both screaming and laughing that the two of you could go all day and all night, what you're really picturing is all the days gone by.

That's what I miss the most, the days when making love was something you could look forward to and not just something you smile reflecting back on.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers