Intimacy Revisited - The Difference Between the Act of Sex and Making Love
Decoding the Difference in the Bedroom
After a wonderful night with a close friend for whom I have loved for over a decade... I am left to ponder the difference between the act of having sex and the act of making love. Is there a difference?
MY STORY - MY FIRST TIME MAKING LOVE
I shared a beautiful reunion with a man for whom I have admittedly fallen in love with over the course of the past year. We dated 10 years prior... but our time had come to an end when our academics took us in very different directions in life. About 3 years ago we rekindled our friendship and found each other conversing cross-country via email for this time. Finding out about each other and building a solid foundation out of the past that we had shared together so many years prior.
After meeting each other again in person about 9 months ago I realized that I had fallen in love with him. All of those emotions had resurfaced and I disclosed how I had felt to my friend. At the time I was separated, he had a girlfriend and he lived across the country ... and he admitted he was flattered by my affection but was unable to reciprocate given the circumstances. He did admit that he "liked" me... and if things were different... who knows? I was heartbroken. Crushed.
I tried to bury these emotions for 2 more months and act like nothing had been said... but once you cross that emotional boundary with someone it was just too hard to proceed knowing that the friendship was surface-valued. So I ended our friendship for no other reason than I wanted him to find love... if not with me than the person he was seeing. If he was happy... truly happy... then I knew it was our fate never to be together. I cut off all communication and wished him much happiness and fulfillment. I was devestated... but it was the right thing to do.
2 months after we concluded our friendship... I received an email from my friend stating that he had broken up with his girlfriend, was moving to a city near mine and that this was something that he had only told myself and his family of. I was overjoyed and elated by his life changes...and had come to terms with my love and affection and proceeded to encourage our friendship only on a platonic level.
Upon his move travels he sent me a postcard stating that he would be home soon and that we would see each other shortly thereafter. Confused, but also excited I tried to bury those emotions deeper not wanting to get hurt again. So upon arrival in his new home... he made plans with me to meet up. At first I was thinking it was a platonic "friendship" thing... and I made plans with only this in mind. A light date out to a ballpark. When plans were formalized ... he also offered to cook me dinner that night. Again, a grand gesture that blurred the lines between the platonic and romantic interest. I was confused by his intentions and accepted graciously.
After spending the day together as friends... we went back to his home where he cooked me dinner. We listened to music, we reminesced about old times and really learned a lot about each other and cultivated a mutual connection. It started to rain outside... and he was planning to take me out to go dancing... so we stayed in and talked more... eventually kissing me... after he stroked my hair and held my hand. It was a beautiful kiss.
Soon after we found our way into the bedroom... and had sex all night. Falling asleep in each other's arms... having fervous passion between the sheets... never letting go of my hand the entire time. When we fell asleep I would pull away... find myself on the edge of the bed... overwhelmed with emotion of knowing that he felt something for me... and I didn't want to get hurt. He would find me under the covers and pull me into him... holding me before releasing me again to enjoy our bodies once more. I lost count how many times we had sex that night.
In the morning... I woke up... startled... overcome with the emotion of loving someone... and fearing that he might not feel the same... that this was just a physical friend-with-benefits sorta thing. He awoke startled to see me dressing frantically... asking me where I was going... as I kissed him on the head and told him that it was fun and that I should leave. Tears streaming down my cheeks. He begged me to stay... and pulled me under the covers where he held me in his arms... holding me for 2 hours. He rubbed my back... and held my hand... without saying a word while I cried on his chest. I finally gave into the fear... and looked into his eyes... pleading for something...to let me know that he wouldn't hurt me... that he felt something beyond the physical. He leaned in and kissed me... so passionately.
He proceeded to tell me "slowly" while he looked into my eyes... touching my face tenderly... and stroking my hair while we had sex slowly. It was very emotional for me... and he just kept staring into my eyes... only closing them to kiss me... passionately and delicately. We climaxed together hand in hand... lips to lips. And he stayed inside me... for at least fifteen minutes. Laying on me... not saying anything. Just holding me tightly. He looked up only once and I could see that he was overcome with emotion. We had reached a level of intimacy... that neither of us had ever shared with anyone before.
DECODING THE DIFFERENCE
So to me... I would say that making love to someone starts long before the physical act commences. It is a build-up of emotion that overcomes the two partners... a shared understanding of trust and unity that abounds during such an intimate sexual embrace.
While sex is the intimate act only... a physical connection... albeit it satisfying and fulfilling... making love is unequivocally a different plateau with the purpose being a shared emotional experience between the parties involved. It's about your bodies feeding off of that emotional energy... displaying it... demonstrating it... and exchanging that energy of love.