Content

Holding my bien aimé close, I am steeped in sensation – the feel of his bare skin pressed against mine, the drag of his stubble against my neck, the press of his fingertips on my hips. It is as though I can feel all of his previous touches at once. Everywhere his hands have stroked or his lips have kissed has come alive and tingles, suffused with carnal pleasure. My mind, meanwhile, spins, caught in a turbulent whirlwind of emotion.

Struggling to encompass the gravitas of this situation, I tuck it all away to think about later. Later, when my soul is not near inebriated by the joy of being held close. When I am not feeling so warm and tender, so connected to my bien aimé. Later, when I can examine my motives and my feelings. For now, I revel in his arms.

*****

Fresh from the shower, wrapped in flannel, I reflect. Stripped of all artifice and armor, I now feel vulnerable and exposed, free to be honest with myself. The love I have for, and give to, my bien aimé is not casual, though it has never been formalized by church or state. We have exchanged no vows or promises, yet that doesn’t make what we share any less meaningful or important to me. What he gives to me transcends the physical, the wanton corporeal gratification that I could produce on my own.

What he gives me is acceptance, that whoever and whatever I am or have been is worthy. I read no condemnation from him, or disgust in my actions or person. He gives me his trust, that neither of us will betray the other. We are neither free, but are instead bound to others. He offers me validation, that I am a woman, fair in form, deserving of receiving and giving love. This, right now, given my emotional fragility, may be the most important of all.

Am I using him? Is he using me? Is it even a question of use? All I know for certain is that I am happy to just be with him. To spend time, talking or touching, with my bien aimé, gives me all that I need right now. For the future, who knows? For now, I am content.