What do you do when you return to earth after having gone to heaven?
How did Dante feel after seeing Paradise and returning to his life as a political exile? Did the beatific vision give him strength, or did it undermine his ability to continue living, trapped in a world completely different from the one he had seen?
And what about Virgil? He, a pagan, could not enter Paradise, so he guided Dante through the horrors of Hell and the pains of Purgatory, taking him to where he himself could never enter. What did Virgil feel afterwards, reading his companion's inspired verses, while he himself spent time in familiar and stale conversations with his virtuous pagan colleagues?
A few days ago, this is what happened to us. He showed me a paradise I had never imagined existed; Even after I managed to get out of my hell, I thought that the best thing I could have in my life was the purgatory I found myself in -- and which really seemed to be a paradise, in comparison to the previous situation.
Of course, I read a lot of stories about incandescent, overwhelming pleasures. But I had always thought of them as fictional accounts -- or, at best, a reality for just a lucky few. My paradise was small and constrained, but it was mine, it was what was within my reach. Even if I sometimes had to fake an orgasm.
I confess, he surprised me. On Saturday, when we first met, I thought he was going to come at me all handsy, wanting to grab me at all costs. But he just smiled, clearly happy to be there with me, and we walked away, chatting like old friends.
It was precisely his ability to hold a real conversation which first attracted me to him... I don't even know how many hours we spent exchanging messages, talking about everything and anything, and he was always genuinely participating in the conversation. I was used to meeting men who couldn't articulate anything other than "you're beautiful," and who always made it very clear that they thought I was there for their satisfaction. Sometimes I think that blocking is the key skill to modern life.
But, with him, the conversation went on far into the night. What's more: he sent me poems, stories, memes... some of them really naughty! Creative, sure... but how much of it was false advertising? I decided to check in person.
We walked, sometimes with him holding my hand. Walking like this, hand in hand, through the streets of my city... that was a long-forgotten feeling for me.
We were at the viewpoint, looking down at the river, when he came closer, and began to caress my hair and my neck, then lightly kissing my face, my ear, going down to my shoulder... without forcing, without asking, but making it clear that he was ready, if I were too.
I was.
The kiss wasn't overwhelming, it was delicate... but it went on, while we explored and discovered each other. It became multiple, interspersed with more affection. Always with no rush, but I was already feeling bewitched... and bewildered... and even a little hot and bothered!
