the love in the sex

The song is on the radio - "...only one good thing worth trying to be, and it's love..." This makes her pause and smile. Talking about the sex feels good. But talking about her sex without talking about her love would be incomplete, like a puzzle pieced together with no picture forming.

When she was in highschool, in a bus moving slowly through the neighborhood, she would pretend her eyes were a camera, capturing stills that could later be retreived if carefully indexed in her mind. The swoop of a tree, the trick of shadow and light over the sidewalk, spring in bloom, clouds as objects, a stray ball in a perfectly manicured lawn, simple things.

One of her photos stands out the most: an elderly couple, pushing 80 perhaps, holding hands with a deep tenderness, walking beneath a large and bowing oak as autumn began its descent on the leafs. That's what she wanted, a peaceful love with depth that flowed like bubbling rivers, but felt like a gentle breeze.

It has been over a decade since she first took that photo, imagined it then in black and white to add to its classic quality, and stored it. Now, she is sure she has it with the way he holds her own hand, the way they laugh, the way they kiss each others quirks with gentleness and abandon, the way they have went through life's transitions with some sense of grace, finding ease in storms. They are past that initial infatuation that fills the body is swoops and gasps; they are past the settling in newlywed stretch that aches and wonders; they are years in. They know each other. They know they are everchanging. They know they are in it all together.

They sat at a meeting a few weeks ago and two of the girls joked about how everyone said they should also be married because they do everything together, they buy each other gifts, and they never have sex. They laugh, feeling they know so much about the crazy life dynamics.

But she glanced at her husband out of the corner of her eye, catching his own, having to swallow her laugh as she thought about what they'd do when these visitors left, perhaps in that exact spot where the others were sitting so casually.

It's funny, this, to have it all. A stable partner, a best friend, a strong shoulder, a lover who will push her into the floor and make her bite her lip while the carpet rubs against her knees and forearms, wanting to taste every drop of the experience.