I feel in love with or thought I fell in love with the first man I ever slept with. My urge to get there was overwhelming and took lots of coaxing to get to point of actually physically making love to another man. It was like a heightened dream of an experience and I was both captivated and addicted by its mysterious nature. Somewhere in the back of my head an alarm went off saying this was not right, but there was a stronger desire inside of me moving my body forward. I knew the attraction was stronger then I could ever resist and eventually gave in. My body trembled with fear, or was I just cold, standing outside of myself trying to deny what I was about to do. But the first embrace brought warmth that soothed away the hesitation. It was a point of no return. I had possible committed myself to a life of uncertainty and probably hardship that I may never overcome. Yet I was wiling to risk everything for this one experience. It was awkward and strange, not sure how to respond or react, but the embrace of that first kiss felt so right. The touching of our lips, mouth, tongue, our worlds colliding into one, my body softened and desire consumed me utterly like I had never experienced before. I wanted to hold on to this moment forever and an emotion, I had not known before, stirred within me; love. This was all I wanted, this one person, this one passion, this one desire. Perhaps I held on too tight. I believed it would last forever and that it would fill my life with utter joy. I was young and naïve, sentimental, and romantic. Isn’t this strong of a connection to another human being supposed to be experienced in a haze of soft beautiful light emerging from a unknown mysterious darkness? It is the theme that has haunted me the rest of my life and now touches everything I do.
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Travis #900
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