So my guy was over this week. It was getting late. The kids were half asleep in the living room. Naturally we steal away to the kitchen to make out like teenagers. I love that, that whole notion of recaptured youth. I never saw it coming as one of those benefits of being divorced. I get a do over.
So we’re in the kitchen and he starts whispering, which I find annoying because I’m trying to listen for little feet which may be walking in our direction. We might get caught! And that flashback again. It was so much like high school and keeping half my attention on where mom and dad were and what they were doing. Were they talking? If so, where in the house were they? How many steps would it take for them to get to me and would that be enough time for me to straighten myself out.
I’ve gone full circle. There is something poetic about being afraid of getting caught by your own children when just yesterday it seems I was afraid of getting caught by my parents. Is someone always trying to catch me? Is my attention always going to be divided? How nice, how unusual it would be during these important, developmental make out sessions, if I could just enjoy and listen to my own internal musings. How much of lust is ultimately riddled with fear? It does make me wonder if they are intertwined and related. And is that ultimately dishonest? If I’m not paying attention to me or my guy in those moments, am I really there with him? Can I really enjoy it?
That sounds philosophical but really it’s bs. Oh yeah, the moment can be enjoyed. Just as long as I can get my clothes back on in 4.5 seconds.