Legal Commentary

And My Heart Melts Like The Snow

By Kevin Funnell

The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.
---G.K. Chesterton

She was a magnificent physical specimen. Five feet nine inches tall. With three-inch heels, standing tall, she looked me straight in the eye. Muscular, yet not thick. Jet black hair and eyes set off against bone white skin. Smooth as glass on the outside, yet as I caressed her, and as she arched her back in response to the touch of my fingers and lips, the power rippled beneath her skin in waves, like the tide surging against the pull of the moon.

She could put the shot as far as I could run in six seconds, but then I was never quick and she was always powerful. On the other hand, her surrender to me was all the more powerfully fulfilling due to her athleticism. "Take me" was her most powerful wish and her most profound gift.

A New York City Jewess, she seemed at first an odd match for an upstate alter boy, but then we both were academic scholarship kids with a bent for physicality. Her mind was unlimbered in ways that mine was bound, and she taught me as much in the ways of letting go as I think I taught her in the ways of self-sacrifice. In the end, she wanted to remake me into a man who loved Matzah and lounging in bed all Sunday with The Times, while I could not resist the call of corned beef, cabbage, and the Journal, and lounging was simply not embedded within my DNA. We parted with a conscious bout of fierce lovemaking on a winter's night in a posh hotel room in the city that never sleeps that left us both haunted by the image, the feel, and the scent of the other that lingered for years.

We both found others, we both found happiness, and neither of us regrets a single minute of our time together so long ago.

I wonder where she is and what she is thinking right now.

Full post as published by Counseling Kevin on March 05, 2011 (boomark / email).