Having returned yesterday from three weeks at Carla's apartment, I find myself in a bit of depression. It feels like home now, but my mind is still there, at Carla's side.
The house seems ever more empty and alone from this point of view. The hills are still there as beautiful as ever, and the birds still sing as lively as always. But I don't seem to pay much attention.
The three weeks I spent with her felt fulfilling. I followed Carla's instruction, I stayed by her side, she rewarded me with her smiles, kisses, and caresses. There's something very simple and relaxing in casting aside my doubts and fears and putting total faith into Carla's decisions, and then knowing the results are always favorable.
I realize that friendships are not built upon common ground, but where the differences compliment each other. There's still respect and love for one another as long as a symbiotic relationship exists.
Yet here at my house, there is much freedom. Living in the country seems to magnify that freedom ever more. I'm still a nudist here and I can be nude outdoors on my property as well as hiking the many trails in this area. There is also a sense of simplicity and relaxation with this kind of living.
But being here also means being alone.
And it also means being the one to make all the decisions. That isn't so bad except there's no one here to please but myself. At Carla's side, I can please her and she can please me. There's a greater sense of purpose and satisfaction in that.
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