What connects me in my relationships?

At dinner last night, Church and State, I was reminded of so many nights out, hundreds of our dining dates; Hama, Il Vagabondo, Roku, Joe Stone, 88 Noodle on Columbus, Cicada after the twins were born, sitting motionless, staring in space, lost…One if by Land, Two if By Sea for our engagement dinner, later joined by Greg and Angela. As Uri worked effortlessly pouring French Martini’s, I touched the back of her hand and smiled and kissed her cheek, then lips. “I like being out with you. I’m lucky to be with you… thank you.”

I am drawn to her.

I still want her.

I still crave everything about her. I am longing to feel her, even when she sits beside me. I seek to smell her, to hear her, to watch her.

I remember the first time I touched her. It was a hug. We had never formally met, but spent formative years around each other. We were now in the same city, directly across the street. It was her front door. She was wearing an angora sweater, although it was probably a knit or a poly-wool blend, my right hand reached behind her and I felt a softness that sent a lightening bolt to my childhood. These were layers of quiet pillows, her sweater and then her skin, all of it was beyond soothing, all of it invited, “You are here, you are safe, you are home, come into me.”

We exchanged pleasantries, stories, I could smell her from across the room, we were adults in the world now. Her roommate Janelle joined, we went downtown to Union Square to the newly opened Coffee Shop. We left Janelle out. The months that followed were about cappuccino, walks in the park and food; Pappardellas, Around The Clock, Mamoun’s, Mary Ann’s, 6th Street, Teddy’s, Odeon, Tomoe Sushi, DoJo, BBQ, Kiev, Veselka, Nirvana, Mesa Grille…it goes on.