Curb My Enthusiasm

He knows I'm going to write about it. It's inevitable.

When a boy tells a girl that he's afraid they're "having too much sex," what else am I expected to do? In fact, despite seeing it in writing this morning and having typed it just now, its still almost unfathomable. I mean, its actually quite possible that this is the first time those words have ever escaped the lips of a member of the male species.

Our sex is becoming an end unto itself rather than an expression of what's between us, he says. He desires more brain, less boudoir. An emphasis on what's between my ears, not between my legs.

Say what?

My first reaction to this news was one of moderate horror. I was offended, almost. Was he trying to tell me that he's bored? Losing interest? Forgetting why he fell for me in the first place?

While admittedly its been quite some time since I've been in the early stages of a relationship that's actually fairly promising, if memory serves, the first few months are always marked by enormous amounts of unbridled passion and overwhelmingly uncontainable physical desires. God willing, A plus B equals limitless quantities of action. Side effects often include chafing, rawness, complete inability to maintain any sense of time or space, and - as M3 has called to my attention (and now yours) - an apparent (albeit hopefully temporary) loss of intellectual connection.

Its not that M3's suggesting we put the total kibosh on time spent between the sheets. But just between you, me and the proverbial lamppost, I think we owe it to all of human sexuality (not to mention the people in the apartment building across from M3's bedroom window) to keep on keepin' on at our current pace. It won't last forever. It can't. The bond between a boy and a girl grows and evolves in wonderful and meaningful ways with the passage of time, but let's be honest. "More sex" is generally not a characteristic that manifests itself as relationships mature.

But dial it down, we must, lest we lose sight of why and how we were so intensely attracted to one another in the first place. The cerebral connection that we first discovered and then watched unfold over a period of weeks before we were free to explore any other dimension of our attraction...it is today and hopefully will always be fundamentally why M3 and I work.

So, even though I accused him of being a total chick today, I get it.

And I'll comply.

Unfortunately, because M3's also the very same fella who, a few days prior to our first "real" date, asked that we take things slow...and then once in my doorway about 30 seconds into said date promptly forgot about said resolution, I'll admit to being just a tad bit dubious. Acknowledging the totally sound logic inherent in that request (and in stark contrast to his fleeting commitment to it) I indulged his wishes for as long as I could before my puritanical will and moralistic fortitude withered. I held out for like three dates or something. Total badass.

But unlike last time, this go 'round I'll know precisely what I'm giving up.

I can't promise I'll be nearly as cooperative.