This is a serial about love and awakening. Previously: The chemistry with Billy is so strong I decide to listen to the body and throw caution to the wind. Click here to start with Part One.
I’m lying on my bed, wearing the figure 8 shoulder brace, trying not to move because I’m afraid of jostling the broken parts of my collar bone that are trying to fuse. Billy has his clothes off, but I’m keeping my blouse on because the bruises on my chest are turning black, purple and green.
For a month I’ve been telling Bill the Good, who took care of me after my ski wreck, not to hug or touch me, and now the other Billy is inside me. And it’s a perfect fit: easy, natural, wonderful, and suddenly it occurs to me to ask about safe sex. I had an AIDS test before the last affair I had, and haven’t made love with anyone since.
Billy says he’s slept with two women since his divorce, but he hasn’t had an AIDS test because he knows the two women are healthy. Damn! This is unprotected sex. I tell him we have to use a condom and that changes things, but it’s still pretty great.
He keeps asking if he was good. (Is there a man out there who doesn’t ask that?) “It was the best first time I can remember,” I say, adding that I have a family history of Alzheimer’s. He struts around, holding up the first finger of each hand and joking, “I’m number one. I’m number one!”
We have so much fun, laughing at and with each other and talking intimately and being as sensual as one can be with a broken clavicle. I haven’t felt like this for eight years — eight years! — since my breakup with the man who, until now, has been the gold standard for love and sexual bliss. I believed I might never experience anything like that again.
“Do you realize,” Billy says, “that we’ve made two connections here? One in the living room and a different one in the bedroom? And how rare it is to have both?”
Yes, I say. To connect with someone both intellectually and physically is indeed rare.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had that before,” he says.
“It’s like… Eros could be knocking on the door.” (I stole the line from Ellen Burstyn)
He nods, then looks around the room. “It may be knocking on three doors.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve set up dates with the two other women I met online.”
So much for the preemptive strike. I tell him if he makes love with any of them, “I need you to tell me, and we won’t do this anymore.”
Keep calm, I tell myself. Life is short. He said he’s never had this before. Enjoy the moment, don’t get hung up on what might happen next. If it’s meant to be, it will work out. Trust.
TO BE CONTINUED
Please leave a comment. Was I a fool? Or, how big a fool was I?
This blog is based on a true story, but I’ve changed names and identifying details to protect privacy. I’ve also, in a few cases, compressed time or altered elements to serve the narrative.The title “Sex Love Enlightenment” is an homage to Mark Matousek’s book, Sex Death Enlightenment