When you remove love from sex you enter a mansion with many rooms shaded in nuance and excess, an invitation to peel away all conventions and programming. A chance to explore your hidden self. You shed something and clothe yourself in something else. Sex is the greatest of gifts, orgasm a glimpse of perfection.
When you add love to sex it feels as if your soul is being drawn from the chains of gravity into the core of the infinite. New feelings come to life, emotions without explanations that we try to name with that perplexing little word we avoid using as if the word is sacred or sacrilegious.
Love is indefinable, a mystery, a distant light in the shadow of death: Romeo and Juliet. Tristan and Isolde. Mickey and Mallory from Natural Born Killers. Love is the twin of death, the conqueror of death. Love bends and curves like space and time. When you are in love you are less afraid of death because you would give your life for the object of your love.
If love is blind and unconditional it must be because we have no control over it. Like nature. Like the tectonic plates below the earth’s surface. Mothers feel that way about their children. But love and being in love are not the same. A woman takes the man she loves into her body and absorbs his oils and essence. A part of him enters her and becomes a part of her.
Love changes the chemical balance in the brain like a drug. It is a drug. Food tastes better. The rain on your face feels warm. When you dance it feels as if the notes of music emerge like an invisible chain that links directly to your moving feet. You smile for no reason. You like people you would not normally like. You forgive them. Love is like being on a small boat in the middle of the sea with no compass and no one to rely on except each other. Falling in love is completion. Falling out of love is a mini-death. Love releases pheromones and dopamine into the brain and gives you a permanent high. Those who have never loved have never fully lived.