So the entire oath of writing more often is still almost on.
And am proud of it, evidently so.
random memory # 763.
It was April end last year, that i met a boy. He was my friend T's brother. Incidentally, i had been crushing on T for sometime now. But as the twisted tale of fate would have it, it was T's brother i ended up with that summer. So after the usual drill of lying to the world to meet up alone, talking on the phone right through the middle of the night, laughing at each other's jokes like you've never heard anything funnier...yada yada.. we started 'going out'. I have always found the term funny somehow, but now that's another story.
So a 'physical relationship' we did not really have. He just kept sucking my face till the end of time and i just sat there waiting for the 'suck face festival' to get over. Post each of our meetings, it would take me some hours of conversations with my friends forever to figure out that why was the relationship was all tongue and no ...errr.. THAT. Amongst my people, there were those you told me to feel lucky that it wasn't just about the sex. But, here i was, spending sleepless nights wondering why it wasn't about it at all?
So, Summer of '09, it was.
Cut to New Years Eve a few years ago.
It was very very cold.
We were very very drunk.
We looked very very hot.
We were very much in love. Really. We were.
It was that time when we couldn't keep our hands off each other. When the whole idea of PDA didn't seem too weird. When we felt butterflies in our stomaches just airbrushing our elbows against each other. When we were in love.
So it was that new years eve when we decided to go all the way. It was hard to, first, cause well, it was the first time. Eventually, between all the giggles, tears, hugs and kisses, we did it. And we did it rather well, if i may say so myself.. :P Back then, it was not sex. It was love. Love, as we knew it.
We did it a lot after that. Working parents can do wonders to your relationships. But again, it wasn't sex. Not once. It was love, each time it was. Sometimes my eye would shed a tear or two while my lips smiled.. and pain had nothing to do with it.
I miss you. Sometimes. NO, actually, i dont think i do. But what we had will always be special.
Cut to a few days back.
Met a guy..a man. Working, polished, can talk well, smokes, dances... and a few other qualities. I think he's the closest i can think of being 'my type'.. that is by assumption that i have a type. Anyway, so we met. Clicked. Hung out a lot. And a few days back, we did it. Just like that. Smoked after. Ya. It's unreal how little or no importance is ever attached to smoking after sex. It is equally good, if not better. Getting back, so here we were, two naked individuals who like each other enough to let each other inside themselves..okay. That, only in a lot more beautiful way. So i wore what was put off me and headed back home. Like it was nothing. What pricked me was that the idea of casual sex had stopped pricking me. Before him, i have felt bad and sometimes cried too about the 'casualness'.
When did my tear-inducing love making turn into sex+smoke, i would never know. sigh!
According to Greek philosopher, Plato, love can be classified as under 'Eros' and 'agape'.
Eros is the love animals are capable of. Strictly of the physical kind. There isn't an interplay or interference of any emotion, other than lust, maybe. But, sex isn't casual. It holds importance. Otherwise, it isn't really sex. it is just animal instinct.
Agape is the love of the highest kind. That is because it is the love which connects people intellectually and spiritually. Wherein, wits of two individuals match.
What is sad is not that there is classification of love; but that, i don't seem to figure in either. Clearly, what i am having isn't sex and my wits happen to match with a lot of people, thank you very much.
So, as twisted as this is, life, as we know it, has come down to Sex and the Witty... or the lack of it.