There are things in life that gain importance only when we endow them with it. If we treat them casually, sometimes just once, they lose some distinction. They can never mean as much to us again.
Sex is one of these unburdened freebies. Love, too. There are others, but we shall leave each wanderer to sift the ashes of their own broken home, in search of the angels from whence all their demons spring. For us, here and now, it is sorrowful that so very many of us recognize the natural truth only once we’ve carved away at it. We sweep our own legs out from underneath us, but there is a moment of air and blissful ignorance and wonder before we land with a sharp crack against the ground.
We can stand after, but not in the same way.