It's only 2 hours...

I hear this expression: “But it is only 2 hours.”

Yes, but that is a long time.

To say “it is only 90 years”…ah, that is true.

This life flashes by, we blink and 90 years are gone by. We were born, we lived, we are about to die. All in a flash, all without understanding. So much of the time we barely processed “what is it?” before we moved on to the next sensation.

So, to say life is only 90 years….yes, I am old enough to fully appreciate that.

But to say “it is only 2 hours”… that I do not understand.

For in that 2 hours, what dreams may come. What a lovely reign of truth and justice and pleasure and… (Keats!) Beauty! Glorious beyond anything John Donne has said.

She is there. She is with you. She opens herself to you. And gives you so much. Things one can never forget.

She knows you well (your good and your bad). She sees and senses many things. She forgives you (as you have forgiven her). And in her wisdom she let’s you in. Appreciate the compliment; it is really an expression of a wonderful love. There are others she would never do this for, and yet with you it happens. There are many types of love. Accept that there are many types of love. If you wanted brotherly love and she does not give that, do not reject the bountiful love she does give. She let you in.

It is now.

It may be a shooting star, but my god what a shooting star.

Carpe corpus. Taste her. Feel her human heart, beating. Look into her eyes and see her soul, which she now shares with you. Those looks that last for eternity. Et ecce muller.

It is a timeless moment that outlasts all time. Take it into your inmost being.

Tell me never again “it was only two hours”. Such a silly notion that tells us nothing when stood against the majesty and mystery of being ALIVE, that moment when you see into the life of things.

***
I had these thoughts. They show, for one thing, how much I appreciate the people I have met.

I hope they resonate for some of you. Bon voyage.

My apologies to my French ancestors that I could not today make good allusions to Moliere. Bonne nuit.

Touché! schöner Begleiter. Danke vielmals. Seriously, yours is a wonderful counterpoint to what I said. Xo darling.

Hi HM,
Yes, agree that time is relative.

I feel my main point is different than that. It is the philosophical question (and the emotional question) "what is real?"

I feel my point is related to the "falling in love with an SP" thread. And the many threads that suggest this whole thing is a total fantasy and is not real.

Is something that lasts only 2 hours "real" or is it (the key phrase) "just a" fantasy.

My point, not unlike the great romantics around 1800, is that one second can be a thousand times more important than a decade.

Certainly women play up the fantasy.

Certainly, in a way, some people can and will dismiss "transient" things. Dismiss, for example, as mere sensations.

My sensibilities are certainly educated enough to distinguish one type of love from another, and yet still say both of of the genus love. For example, a casual friendship of two tennis partners is different than a fairly deep father-daughter relationship. But both are expressions of a kind of love.

Part of my observation is that every relationship, even love of God, can wax and wane. Every human relationship will eventually die (at least in some sense) as .... finally, the wife or the husband dies (some assume that the deepest love is between husband and wife....others dispute this.) Every relationship ends, in some sense (some might argument that the relationship with God or Brahmin or Tao never ends because Tao never ends. And we (that inmost self, our soul) returns to its source.

Let's be real. There is no question that some women do sex work solely for the money. And some do not care much for men, however they may care for their reputation as an SP and however much they wish to be perceived, in the marketplace, as providing a good service.

Still, more most or at least for many women, they may hold their "hearts" in check, but they do experience shudders and big waves. And do like men. And as soon as you like someone, as soome as you have empathy and sympathy and compassion, then I argue that is a kind of love. And your heart opens and you connect with people in a different way.

So, I tried to express in a kind or poetry before that it is real -- these two hours. And now, with more rational ideas, I try to express to you my thought that 2 hours "here" (not Merb but "in a room") is just as real, maybe more, on average, than two hours with close close friends and the relationship may last 3 decades.

It is funny how we have (or so many have) these fixed notion of what real love is, what is real, what is an important relationship. They typically just limit the experiencing of the deep reality in front of you.

This is also to say: Reality is my fantasy. And that fantasy is an important reality. We are that kind of primate that can cry at a play by Shakespeare. That experience in its own way is often deeper and more cultured than any normally real experience.

To sleep, perchance to dream....

@Maria Divina. Thanks! And I liked your comments too.

I have not met you, but you make me say.... Part of why I said it (the first one) was in appreciation of the people I have meet in these experiences. It has been intimate, intense, valuable, meaningful and fun. I appreciate them.
May the road always rise to meet you!

I do not know if you know a song called "A simple twist of fate". (Diana Krall covered it well.) It has a lyric.... "to which he just could not relate...". Now I feel I can relate. To the pleasure and the pain. To what is lost and what is found. To the love inside so many wonderful women, and each reveals it in her own way. Maybe you prefer to call it kindness or empathy or friendship or playfulness. I call them all love.
Bon voyage!

To Maria, Stringcroc, ourson69: Thank you for your kind words.

I guess I'll add this.

***

According to conventional people, we have unconventional tastes. Or at least do unconventional things.

So…., how unconventional our tastes are is open to some question. We do satisfy these pleasures in a way that... at least many people will say is unconventional.

Some wish to say or think (and maybe some of us do think and feel) that we must "box things in" or compartmentalize .... or even dehumanize people. I suppose we all HAVE to do that to some degree. Such is ALL of modern life (where our Instagram is more important than talking face to face). In the Metro I just cannot give a polite "Bonjour" to everyone. Not possible.

Still, I think all of this (whatever "this" is) is better to the degree we put it in the context of our fuller humanity. And the other person's fuller humanity. And the good things and sad things in our lives. And in the whole history of our lives and cultures.

A kiss is just a kiss. A sigh is just a sign. But a kiss is NOT "just a kiss". And, at least quite often, feeling what is behind the sigh can lead to as much fun as anything else. Ah, I adore those sighs. I adore making those sighs happen. Especially when I like, admire, am in awe of the beauty of, the woman behind the sigh.

I enjoy discovering. The other person, and in the process I even discover myself. It is rich. I am grateful.

Even with your boundaries and my boundaries, you are rich. And the whole thing is rich.

Thank you!