DYING A THOUSAND DEATHS

The French may be fucked up in a lot of ways, but when they nail something they get it so right that it is easy to forgive the fact that they are a bunch of rude, arrogant shitheads.

I have tried to articulate as best I can the feelings I have for a very special woman, and everything that goes in here is an attempt to express to her, as honestly and as openly as I can, how much I love her and how much she means to me. I have opened myself up to her completely, and have held nothing back, good or bad. I am hoping that my words, thoughts, and feelings will mean something to her not just now, but also down the road after I am gone. I have tried to convey to her all of things that I think and feel, and while my attempts may not be literature, they are honest and unfiltered. I have spoken of her beauty, class, and elegance. I have written of how she excites me in so many different ways that I am constantly astonished. I have mused about the bittersweet nature of having discovered someone so right and so natural for me, and of how there is a joy and a sadness at having discovered her at this point of my life, when I can only yearn for more time than I am probably going to be allowed.

The one thing I haven't really spoken about is the subject of this post, and I hope it doesn't offend her in any way.

Which brings us back to the fucking French (this all will be tied together and wrapped up with a little bow- I promise).

In their attempts to turn every fucking thing into poetry, they came up with "La Petite Mort", or "The Little Death", their own term for the actual act of orgasm, equating it with the same sort of transcendence that supposedly occurs at the moment of death, when ones lifeforce leaves the body for another plane of existence. Up until recently I just thought of this as another typically pretentious bit of French bullshit.

But now I get it.

I am not talking about fucking (although I am sure the French are, given that they are a bunch of deviant little bastards), that is fine and nice and has pretty much been what my sex life has been up to this point, and I certainly had no complaints anytime I got laid- but that was all restricted to the physical sensation of the act itself (which again, has it's own rewards), and the feeling never really went beyond the actual act itself.

I am talking about the exquisite sensation of making love with a woman who ignites every nerve in my body. Being inside of her lights me up in a way I never could have imagined, and the wet, warm depths of her transport me to a realm where she and I exist only for each other, and everything else slips away. The way she moves, the sounds she makes, the look on her face, each and every little thing registers all at once and only serves to increase a passion I didn't even know I had. At these moments I want to stay inside of her for hours, our flesh merging and moving as one. What makes these moments so intoxicating is that the emotional sensation is as powerful as the physical, and I literally feel dizzy and off balance, like I am floating in turbulent waters.

This is new to me. I am learning as I go- and sometimes the sheer physical lust and desire I feel for her pushes me close to the fucking category. But she always manages to guide me back to the far more satisfying act of making love, and every movement, every kiss, every whisper, every bead of sweat, thrills me; and each time I want it to last as long as possible. And while I lose myself in her the most important thing for me is that I give her the same sort of pleasure and sensation she is giving me. I can't imagine that I satisfy her in any way near the way she satisfies me but again, I am learning.

Before, whenever I came, it just marked the end of a (highly enjoyable) physical activity. With her though it is a transcendent moment, one where time stops and every ounce of passion and feeling that I have takes over and I feel as if I have truly been joined with her, body and soul. At these moments I know exactly what "La Petite Mort" means, and I can only hope and pray that she will kill me a thousand times before I leave this mortal coil.

God I fucking hate the French.