On Love, Lust, and Death

DO YOU believe in true love? Love so turgid it can never wither? A bond neither party will ever betray? A melding of two spirits into one?

I don’t mean a lover’s infatuation. Soft skin against hard muscle. A caress of a cheek. A firm but gentle kiss, the touch of tongues. A skillful snap of a bra strap.

I don’t mean fingers traveling the seams of cheeky panties, a hand slipping beneath boxers. Lips traveling where they might.

Don’t get carried away now. Love and lust are a heart-pounding pair, but they’re not mirror images. One is pajamas. The other is pajamas coming off so fast you lose a sock.

I believe love is built like a sturdy house. It’s a commitment, an agreement to a set of principles, a promise to walk hand in hand to the grave . . . no matter what. It’s walls and a roof. It’s warmth and security. It’s a place to wait out the storms and hide from the beasts in the night.

And hey, if someone cleans the oven or pops out of the bathroom in secretly purchased lingerie, that is love’s reward.

In the realms of love and lust, an individual is half of a whole. I want to be part of an equation. I want to have someone to help me shovel out our grave together. I want to be so interlocked with another that I never feel alone again, and I want to give that gift to my other.

But where are you?

With love,


2 thoughts on “On Love, Lust, and Death

  1. I know what you mean, Tory. I have the same views, and still hold out hope that I may, someday, find someone to be my other half. It would make the world so much easier to face, our burdens easier to bear, and more importantly for us writers, a committed sounding board for our ideas and thoughts.

    Liked by 1 person

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