Casual sex is all fun and games,but what happens when you want more than just pillow talk? Our friends at YourTango gave us butterflies when they shared why you should topple in love with your best friend.
Intimacy goes beyond sharing my body; I want to share my soul.
It's easy enough to find a lover. There's no shortage of willing participants the world over: men and women who desire nothing more than the moment, that first touch, and the way two bodies collide like dying stars and create whole new galaxies.
It's such a simple thing to topple into somebody's arms,to throw yourself into their bed, to memorize the language of fingertips on skin. In sex, or we can find ourselves or lose ourselves,long moments of free-floating bliss where nothing else exists except mouths and hands and the sounds clothes make as they shed.
But the mere act of being with someone isn't enough to satisfy me. Intimacy goes beyond sharing my body; I want to share my soul. I want to repulsive cry in the safe space of his arms and still feel resplendent (brilliantly glowing).
I want to roll out of bed in the morning and fill him pull me back in, morning breath kisses and messed up hair, and maybe he'll hold me a runt longer or maybe he'll tickle me until I heave myself up and head for the shower. But either way,the warmth of it will stay with me all day.
I want to go to baseball games, bright lights under summer skies, and overpriced beer and souvenirs,and watch the way his eyes crinkle around the corners when he smiles at me and grabs my hand every time our team hits a domestic run.
I want to travel to exotic locations with him, hear the way he tries to pronounce words that are foreign in his mouth, and try delicious and disgusting foods,watch sunsets on seas half a world absent. I want to go no further than our sofa, a weekend of nothing but Netflix and pajamas, or snacks and no dinner,bingeing on improper TV and really improbable TV, portray my nails while he picks up my feet and puts them in his lap.
I want to watch him sleep in the faint light that dissects our room at night, and stun myself with the revelation that I miss him when he's not awake.
I want to lay awake in the early morning hours,shoulder to shoulder, legs folded around each other like an anchor, and talk approximately everything and nothing,the time my parents sent me flowers when I won the sixth grade spelling bee, and how he felt when his dad left domestic for the final time. I want to accidentally burn dinner and fill to go out for emergency pizza at 9 PM, and a runt bit drunk on the moonlight and each other,sitting on the same side of the booth because across the table feels like far too much distance between us. I want to write lipstick notes on the mirror, "I love you" etched in steam, or find notes in my jacket pocket with private jokes that make me blush,make me remember, make me anxious to rush domestic. I want to meet his family, or fill him meet mine,and love them or hate them or mostly just tolerate them, or just make a family of our own. I want to laugh with him and cry with him, or push him absent and then press myself against him until we can barely breathe,celebrate the worthy times and grieve the hard ones, talk it out and storm out in indignant silence, or go to bed hurting and wake up forgiving.
I'm not looking for just a lover. I want someone that's my person,my lobster, my mister. I want to topple in love, and be in love,and stay in love with my best friend.
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Having Rough Sex Makes Me Feel Like a Virgin Every. Single. Time.
Source: popsugar.com