INTIMACY

I used to think intimacy was two people consummating their relationship under the auspices of love in a candlelit room with sensual rhythm and blues melodies playing in the background. Yet, as I grow older and quite frankly wiser, I realize intimacy transcends physicality.

Intimacy has become my most trusted confidante. She mocks me saying, “Open your eyes and realize that he is never going to love you!” She offers the crude but oh so real words that my girlfriends would never dare verbalize. Yet, she nestles me in her bosom as I cry unto myself, assuring me that everything I need rests within me.

Intimacy introduces my right to understand myself. She gives me the confidence to reveal the woman that no else will know nor comprehend. She grants me creative license to dream beyond my current state of consciousness. She strips me of my mask that hides my cheeks and shades my eyes, making me vulnerable only to myself.

With her definition no longer tainted by rose petals and glasses of champagne, I know intimacy is loving me for who I am, who I am not, who I am striving to become, who I will never be, ... and the masterpiece in progress that I am.