Love is everything

It had been a long, slow drive down south. It rained the whole way, belting down on the glass sunroof above our head as well as the windscreen, making visibility poor. Traffic was typically heavy for a peak hour Friday night leaving Sydney. Swan Haven was hours away yet, but we were warm and safe in the car. We had lovely music to play on the stereo and we had each other to talk to. We couldn’t wait to taste the first warming sip of red wine on our lips and we really wanted to get into each other’s bodies.

I drove - he told me stories of his day and the week that was. The deals he made, what the stock market had done and the effect it had had on the companies who’s shares had dropped enormously in their value. We just drove slowly and carefully, talking the whole time. He put his hand on my left leg for most of the trip and occasionally, I played with his fingers, we held hands when I could safely take one hand of the wheel. At one point, I turned his hand over and I ran my fingers around inside his palm and gently up his wrist.

We sang a few songs when conversation lulled. We also sat quietly in the dark, holding hands, mesmerised by the hypnotic and repetitive squish- squelch of the windscreen wipers.

We finally arrived, several hours later and ran from the car through the dark to where we knew the key was hidden. We got inside laughing, wet and stood there playing with each others dripping hair for a second. We hugged and kissed and fell with slight mock exhaustion onto each other’s faces, like it was years we had spent getting there instead of the four hours it actually took. When you think about it now though, it had taken years for us to get to this point, but this is just me talking esoterically.

The first thing he did was to put on the CD player – this beach house has a defining CD. Buddha Bar 3 – Disc One. It warmed the house up far quicker than any heater could do. A few lamps were put on around the lounge and the atmosphere was set instantly. Total bliss.

I got to work in the kitchen putting the oven on so I could bake some lamb chops for our dinner. It was our favourite winter meal, red wine and lamb chops and my infamous potatoes. I popped the cork of the Shiraz and quarter filled the outsized wine glasses. Another kiss, a hug and we held each other tight for a few minutes. I sent him to the car to get our baggage and the rest of the food that I hadn’t grabbed on the first run in. He winked at me just then, standing at the back door looking out at the rain. I smiled – he warms me better than any red wine, heater or lamb chops ever could. Even though he was about to get drenched, he didn’t mind and into the wet darkness he ran.

Car unpacked, dinner under way, he jumped in the shower to warm up and put on some clean dry clothes. I took his wine glass into the shower so he could have a sip while he shampooed away the city pollution and the stresses of his week. He laughed at me for bringing it in, but I wanted to look at his body. I didn’t need an excuse of course, but what the heck, I thought. He took the glass off me and sipped. The steam from the hot water fogged the wine glass over. I reached in and held his penis. It instantly swelled so I played with his warm wet balls too and he smiled and took another sip from his frosted glass. “Finished”, he enquired? My smile went right across my face and back again and I thought I better let him finish his bath. "Not even close", I replied. I took another lingering look at his erection and started getting some pretty intense blood flow myself in the same region. I couldn’t wait to get him into bed. We both smiled big happy smiles, kissed and I slid the shower door closed. I left the spot of foam from his shampoo on my forehead, wondering if it would last till he got out the shower - I thought it might make him laugh. I moved the little fan heater to under his towel so it would hopefully warm up that as well as the room. A warm towel in winter. Bliss

Dinner was cooked, we ate, and it was perfect. Some tangy baked tomato joined the pink lamb and the crispy brown spuds and we lay back on the lounge feeling stuffed to the gills. Some mindless 80’s movie was on the TV. Neither of us was interested and he started to doze off. My glass of wine was recently refilled, so I picked up the latest Wallpaper magazine off the coffee table and started to read it. He shuffled along, dropping his head down into my lap and putting his feet up the other end. I played with his hair once I had put my glass down. He loved his hair being played with and I knew within seconds he would be purring like a kitten.

Twenty minutes or so of this, I was ready for bed. I asked him quietly if he wanted to go to bed. Without opening his eyes, or moving a muscle, he gently said “SSSSShhhhh” and became inanimate again. I laughed, the little duffer wasn’t asleep – he was just dozing away loving his hair being played with. I giggled at him and he repeated his gentle reproach “SSSSShhhhhhhhhh”. Again, he went totally motionless and I laughed. If I were any more in love than this, I would have popped like the biggest firework in the history of man.



But I eventually gave it all up. A few years down the track these are my wonderful memories of what it was to be truly, properly in love. I wasn’t in love the first time around – BF # 1. I haven’t figured out what he/ that was yet – maybe it was a counterpoint to Mr Two so I would know what it was really like instead of what I thought it was? I definitely know now what love is like and I am starting to miss it again. The peaceful intimacy of the perfect being inside your soul.

I was listening to kd lang's 'Hymns of the 49th parallel’ this morning and track 12, 'Love is Everything' reminded me of this moment in time and inspired my post tonight.

Do I want to do this again? To risk certain and total heartbreaking catastrophe if love came along once more and ever went away again? I have learned an enormous amount of good things the past few years, things I never knew before. I know how hard it is to lose it all. I’ve learned from the mistakes that I hopefully won’t make again. I’ve learned how to properly take care of a ‘heart’ that is handed to me for safekeeping. I have learned so much about myself as well. I’ve been slowly making sense of my place on this earth and jousting with destiny, wondering if it will ever play nicely with me again? So, again to love...I'm not out looking for it. It can come find me if it really wants me. It knows where I am. I'll play the aloof game for a bit and not get tangled up in any repeats of BF #1. Maybe that was the lesson of #1?

So, do I want another like this above?

Oh my heaven, yes.

Same, same, but different.




Maybe it was, to learn how to love?
Maybe it was, to learn how to leave?
Or maybe, it was for the games that we play?
Maybe it was, to learn how to choose?
Maybe it was, to learn how to lose?
Or maybe, it was for the love that we made?

Love was everything, they said it would be,
And love made sweet and sad, the same.
But love forgot to make me too blind to see
You’re chickening out, aren’t you?
You’re banging on the beach like an old time drum
I can’t wait for you to make the whole kingdom come
So I’m leaving.

Maybe it was to learn how to fight,
Maybe it was to listen up right?
Or maybe, it’s just nature’s way?
Maybe it was to learn how to laugh?
Maybe it was to learn to cry?
Or Maybe, it was for the love that we made?

First he turns to you
Then he turns to her
So you try to hurt him back
Bu it breaks your body down
So you try to love bigger
Bigger still
But it… it’s too late

So take a lesson from the strangeness you feel
And know you’ll never be the same
And find it in your heart to kneel down and say
I gave my love, didn’t I?
And I gave it big… sometimes
And I gave it my own sweet time
I’m just leaving