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Feb. 25th, 2005 10:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aprilstarchildSo, I was on the bus the other day, just like most days. An older guy, maybe late forties, was driving. A woman gets on, and at first I think she's his replacement driver because she sticks her bag behind his seat, but she goes and sits down. A few stops later she goes up to the driver and they start talking quietly. Then she kisses him (we were at a red light). They keep talking, and I was fascinated by how they looked at each other. Keep in mind, neither of them are stereotypically good looking. He was bald and had a little extra weight. Her hair was frizzy and her face showed that she wasn't, y'know, my age or something. But they still looked at each other in a way that showed they still found each other desirable--and their kiss wasn't obscene or anything, but was still more than a routine hello.
I don't know why, but oh man that made me so happy. I want to feel like that when I'm their age. I sometimes joke that I want to be having sex until I'm dead, but it's true. I'm looking forward to being older, and being with someone for a long time, and still thinking they're hot stuff.
Reminds me of a bit I saw Jeff Foxworthy do--he's a stand-up comedian. It was somthing like: "You young single people think you've got it made, having sex with different people all the time. But y'know what? I know the combination to my wife's safe deposit box. Three to the left, four to the right--'Oh yes!'--you're welcome, honey." *lol*
That kind of long-term affectionate love reminds me of a campfire. It's comforting and and warm and you can be near it a long time and not get burned. That doesn't make it boring, though.
I know I've done it before and I'll probably do it again, but in the end it's not fun to have the kind of fire that burns you. I don't know if I'm making sense. Some fires burn hot and fast, but you pay for it. When I was a toddler my mom was ironing clothes, and she told me not to touch the iron. When she had her back turned, I did anyway. It hurt like hell, of course--but I had to do it. I had to know what it felt like. My curiousity was too strong (thank gods it wasn't the stove). I've done that in other ways--I know this is going to hurt, but I can't stop myself from doing it anyway. Well, that makes it sound like I have no self-control at all. I suppose I could stop, but I don't know that I really wanted to at the time.
Bleh. Enough heavy metaphors for now.
I don't know why, but oh man that made me so happy. I want to feel like that when I'm their age. I sometimes joke that I want to be having sex until I'm dead, but it's true. I'm looking forward to being older, and being with someone for a long time, and still thinking they're hot stuff.
Reminds me of a bit I saw Jeff Foxworthy do--he's a stand-up comedian. It was somthing like: "You young single people think you've got it made, having sex with different people all the time. But y'know what? I know the combination to my wife's safe deposit box. Three to the left, four to the right--'Oh yes!'--you're welcome, honey." *lol*
That kind of long-term affectionate love reminds me of a campfire. It's comforting and and warm and you can be near it a long time and not get burned. That doesn't make it boring, though.
I know I've done it before and I'll probably do it again, but in the end it's not fun to have the kind of fire that burns you. I don't know if I'm making sense. Some fires burn hot and fast, but you pay for it. When I was a toddler my mom was ironing clothes, and she told me not to touch the iron. When she had her back turned, I did anyway. It hurt like hell, of course--but I had to do it. I had to know what it felt like. My curiousity was too strong (thank gods it wasn't the stove). I've done that in other ways--I know this is going to hurt, but I can't stop myself from doing it anyway. Well, that makes it sound like I have no self-control at all. I suppose I could stop, but I don't know that I really wanted to at the time.
Bleh. Enough heavy metaphors for now.
