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for anything else when I've just spent five hours of love making today? My Italian lover, a little more than decade younger than me, has the stamina for the longest sessions of love making. That's what it is, let me tell you. Pure blissful love making! I've had many partners share my bed. This stands out, above and beyond them all. As my lover for almost three years now, it is still unearthly. It resembles an illuminating force of a deep meditative state, traveling across the stars. I can see God, simply by staring into his eyes. Beautiful soul gazing, with the revelation of no beginning or end. There is only that moment, and you become lost in it. Moving, floating, traveling, understanding. We touch our lips gently and hold them there endlessly, breathing into one another as we dissolve into consciousness. Time stands still and we never notice that hours have passed. During love making, he will message my body and care to each and every inch of me. No area more or less important. Soft, gentle, pure and filling. It could take up as much time as a part time job, if I let it. Mama Mia it's just plain beautiful!

For most of my life, sex has been alright. Although in the past there were many times afterward, I felt depleted. A sense of loss, a part of me given up, or it just wasn't as meaningful as I would have hoped. A lack of true connection you might say. It's amazing that we can experience such a physical act without emotionally connecting at all. Besides our bodies actually being in the same room, our minds have drifted someplace else far away. For many couples that I talk to, it's nothing more than scratching an itch or their marital duty and obligation. The thought of having sex like that now, makes my stomach turn. We all deserve to be treasured, nurtured, loved, and touched with the utmost respect and care. This was such a shock to my system when I first experienced it.

Although we long for a deep connection, there is safety in being emotionally removed. After meeting my lover, we would go out to eat and he would stare at me. Look right through me. It was too intense, I couldn't return the gaze, all I could do was hold back tears. I was not acclimated to eye contact and really did not want to be seen. I didn't want someone to know how much pain I was in. Besides I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't. Why did this person want to know me? I just want to ride on the surface and enjoy. I was busy planning, strategizing, organizing, getting things

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