I’ve been thinking a lot about the sex life of married people. It started during a conversation with a friend about the sexual compatibility of her and her husband from the get go. This was interesting to me because well, as I stated before, Juanito and I first met when I 14 years old and our first kiss was only my second one ever. So needless to say I was horribly inexperienced and the word fumbling doesn’t even begin to describe our first few encounters as teens. So to have that spark that you read about in romance novels from the very beginning is fascinating to me. I won’t lie, a part of me assumes that she’s lying about her hot sex life merely because I think it’s a hoax perpetuated by chick lit and Nora Ephron movies. I sound jealous don’t I?
While on a mini-vacation with Schmacey, I started reading a completely trashy novel quintessentially named Bad Boys Down Under. It was soft porn at its best and perfectly placed during this carefree weekend. The love stories, or should I say lust stories, centered around a gorgeous woman and a chiseled, wild man-child and their undying love for one another blossomed within days of meeting one another. While I internally laughed at the raw passion what gave me pause was wondering when did I miss the passion boat? I think I might have ignored it when it came by.
I’m pretty sure the answer is hidden within the therapy I’m in. It’s most likely tied to the anxiety issues that I can’t seem to find the way to articulate. I feel like I’m on a mission to rekindle the passion within me. I think when people have kids they do things to try and reconnect with their partner as a person and not as a parent. But what I think I missed was that Juanito and I share a connection unlike anyone else’s. And my friend with the hot sex life has a completely different connection than me and Juanito. And so on and so forth. Our connections, regardless of their electrical charge and frequency and strength, are unique unto ourselves. But the longevity of that connection is dependent on the people. Which is why I am not looking to reconnect with Juanito on an emotional level but a little more basic, primal perhaps.
In the past when Juanito and I talk about the fertility process when we conceived The Boy, the timed sex that is required is a major low point. I really wanted to make an effort this time around that the timed sex, or as Juanito calls it Robot Sex, is better, enjoyable for all, a postive memory. I’m not aiming for earth shattering but check back during the post-coital glow. This goal was hard to meet this last go around. And I’ll be honest, reading Bad Boys Down Under did help me get me in the mood to be able to initiate and be the aggressor, which is a role I'm not comfortable in the bed room. I think we accomplished what I set out for but as always there is room for improvement.
While passion is hard work the payoff is so damn worth it.