Monday, August 22, 2011

What's Love Got to Do with It? (got to do with it?)

I've been thinking about this topic for awhile, but it's just now that I've had time to sit down and write. What's love got to do with sex?

For me? Everything.

I've kissed a lot of guys. Maybe not as many as my friends who have lost count, but my stats aren't too shabby. The best kisses were always when I had feelings for the guy.

Let me tell you a story about this guy with whom I had an undefined thing in France. I know that's super-vague, but sometimes, labels are unnecessary. We both had complicated things waiting for us in the States, but we had fun together, we were attracted to each other, and we enjoyed being together. So we were—we just didn't worry about defining it.

Near the end of my latest séjour in France, I did a fair amount of traveling based out of Paris, and each time I was there, I met up with Ron.* The first night I was there (more than a month since I'd last seen him), we walked around a bit, went to dinner, and then he walked me to the metro line I had to take to get back to my hostel. As the metro pulled up, we hugged good-bye, and he kissed me ever so briefly. Close-mouthed, only for seconds, on a metro platform, but I couldn't stop smiling the rest of the night. And I had butterflies in my stomach for a week.

It was the simplest of kisses I've ever had, but it produced the strongest reaction. Why? When Ron kissed me so briefly, I knew that he liked me. That made all the difference in the world.

If I can be so happy about the slightest of kisses just when I like someone, imagine how amazing it will be to engage in sex with my husband, the man I will love more than anyone, the man with whom I will spend the rest of my life. When I first experience sex, I will be making love to my husband, not fucking some hot guy who's only interested in my body. (Please read my previous post if that comes off as judgmental, because it isn't my intention).

I won't be scared or nervous or hesitant because I will be secure in his love for me and my love for him. He will already know my flaws, both in physical appearance and in personality traits. He will find beauty in my imperfections, in my softly rounded belly or in my stretch marks from childhood health problems. He will encourage me to be a better person, to be humble and modest instead of prideful and vain. I will be comfortable and vulnerable with him. I won't put on a facade or worry about imperfections because he will love me anyway. My soul will intertwine with his, honest and naked, and thus, I will allow my body to intertwine with his as well.

More than anything else, this is why I'm saving myself for marriage. I have other reasons too, secondary ones, that I'll save for another post another day. For me, a man should know the inner workings of my heart before I allow him to know the most intimate details of my body. Only one man will ever know me that well, and he will be my husband.

*Not his real name. 

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