It’s raining. Each drop gently falling as though it were a small piece of the clouds above descending to the earth below. Ever so softly, the sound whispers as it rests upon their window pane; a sound of music that only love can translate.
Passion serenades love and he heeds her beckoning call and there they lay affixed one to the other as if the world is theirs alone.
Without question we have just witnessed the making of love or have we? I described to you the opening scene of CSI or any of a dozen other network shows, films, video, novels, etc. Let me first say that the art of making love to a woman almost never, if ever, begins in the bed room neither is its final chapter penned there.
The line of demarcation that once separated “love” from “sex” has been so muddied that the words have become interchangeable but, overwhelmingly, the sex act itself has defined them both. Any mention of love conjures some physical display of affection of some sort whether graphic or not.
If we add “making” as the precedent to “love” in sequence, a most graphic display will undoubtedly ensue. These words are not synonymous but, totally independent of the other. Think for a moment. Have you (or someone you know if you want to play it safe) ever loved someone that you’ve never had sex with? I would suspect the opposite of that is also true. I can answer both of those questions with a resounding “yes” as I suppose a large number of us could.
A few months back, I was having a conversation with two men about women and love. The elder of the three of us said something that I had never heard before. He said “Love is a behavior”. Did the proverbial light bulb burn bright for you as it did me?
It could explain why two people exchanging vows at a wedding could pledge to love each other for better or worse. They’re committing to have the same behavior regardless of the circumstance. That’s not quite the pretty picture I described earlier; nothing’s romantic about that.
It’s totally contrary to our natural inclinations. If it feels good, do it. That’s the ever prevailing mantra of today. Love is a choice we make that’s not directed by current happenings but, by prior commitments. It’s not an accident; so you can’t fall in it. If you could, like most people, at some point you’d get up.
Love’s not blind. Its hindsight is 20/20.
I may have been a bit deceptive in my title “The Art of making Love to A Woman”. I’ll try to redeem myself with a word of wisdom I once heard from a seasoned minister. He said: “Making love to a woman doesn’t start the “day of”. It starts in the “days” before. That’s a lesson that comes with age.
The art of making love is one of intention but sex is not the intended result. It may be a by product but never the goal. As with any art form, this skill is one that is learned and perfected over time requiring much patience and dedication. It’s not for the weak or faint of heart.