Sex is just another form of death. It doesn’t really matter if you’ve made it past the point of flirting, if your best time is behind you, if you’re still caught in the middle of the act. Joining with another is tantamount to its ensuing end, to the years that may pass without another word to one another, to the memory you eventually hold as the true embodiment of who you are and what you’ve done. Sure, you can bump shoulders with your peers about it, but that’s not what this is. That’s never been what this is.
I don’t even have the slightest clue where you’re living these days. Not that I would, considering our circumstances, but then, why I am writing this to you? Didn’t we have our moment? I know it’s just sex, but once every few months or years, I end up thinking back to that time, that night, that morning that in some ways I’m still living in. This isn’t an admission of sadness. Really, I’m doing great, and I really hope you are too. It’s just that when I start thinking about that night, suddenly I can’t stop, and it’s like I’m there again, only I’m here. I can’t actually feel you, but I remember how it felt, how much we laughed, how exhausted we were by the time it was all over, and it just makes me so grateful for every second that we had together.
There’s no point in going back. That’s not how any of this works. That night that we fucked and fucked and fucked was important not just because I felt so alive then, but because I feel so alive now just thinking about how long ago that was. Every day we get on a conveyor belt taking us slowly closer toward a bottomless pit, but the real tragedy is how much time we spend not even realizing how much we’re constantly moving. I want to know that time is something that passes through us. I want to feel something change me, even if it’s just a memory glimpsing back from the rearview mirror. I want our physical dalliances to be something more than and also exactly as meaningless as we always end up pigeonholing them to be. I want you to know that you shook me all night long.
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