It was a normal Tuesday evening, one of those evenings that fit seamlessly into the endless chain of previous years. We were sitting next to each other on the couch, the distance between us was physically small, but mentally it felt like an ocean. The familiar silence in the room was only interrupted by the soft ticking of the wall clock and the distant, muffled sound of traffic outside our window. We knew this scenario inside out: We were each immersed in our own digital universe, our thoughts already revolving around the next day's logistics, the week's shopping or the upcoming deadlines at work. But when our eyes suddenly and completely unintentionally met over the rim of our wine glasses, something happened that I had long thought was lost. My heart stopped for a moment and then I felt it - that forgotten, electric spark that had brought us together almost two decades ago.
Without saying a word, I slowly placed my cell phone on the coffee table. Almost as if in slow motion, I watched as he did the same and placed his device next to mine. It was as if we had broken down an invisible barrier at the same time. We began to perceive each other properly again, beyond our roles as parents, household managers or professionals. I felt the comforting, almost painfully missed warmth of his skin as he gently took my hand and stroked the back of my hand in a circular motion with his thumb. A shiver, more intense than I'd felt in years, ran down my spine and spread through my whole body.
When we finally walked into the bedroom together, a room we knew as well as the back of our hands, every movement suddenly felt new and exciting. The familiar shadows cast by the streetlight on the walls through the curtains acted as a mysterious backdrop to our reawakened desire. We took the time that we so often lack in our hectic everyday lives. There was no goal, no rush, no expectation. Every touch was a conscious, slow journey of discovery. I traced the contours of his face, traced the lines around his eyes that told of our life together and felt his breathing become faster and shallower on my skin.
We completely re-explored the map of our bodies, finding places we had long criminally ignored and letting ourselves be surprised by the raw intensity of our own deeply buried feelings. It was no longer functional pleasure, no mere 'working off' needs. It was a deep, almost sacred merging of two souls who had almost lost each other in the labyrinth of everyday life. That night, we were no longer people arguing about bills and parenting - we were once again these two young lovers, burning with desire for each other and simply oblivious to the world around them. That night was the final, beautiful proof: the fire never goes out completely in a long relationship; it just waits patiently under the ashes for you to give it the oxygen and space to flare up bright and hot again.
