You know, you sort of randomly drift in and out of semi-consciousness, and more often than not your random thoughts will both reflect on what you were just dreaming, and influence what you dream next ... quite fun, really.

So anyhow, I wanted to mention something that occurred to me while I was sleeping, and I'd think it should make some kind of sense.

Now, of course sex done right is just a party and a half, and thus the world over is generally rather preoccupied with it, and the its value as far as how it fits into relationships is really nothing to be taken lightly.

But really -- while sex would be the most obvious feature to distinguish romantic relationships from close friendships, that's not really where the true distinction lies, is it? This occurred to me because I was musing a bit on lovers past.

Hm. Okay, leaving aside things like childhood puppy love and such -- and in this, we include hormone-driven infatuations -- in my lifetime, I would seriously have said that I was in love a total of three times.

Now, the "in love" facet of one of those relationships was essentially intellectual -- this would be a very old friend, to whom I've been quite close most of my life. Though she is quite beautiful, I don't believe that was ever a highly passionate sort of love, so much as extremely companionate -- personality-wise, we simply fit together very well.

The second of these relationships was a matter of intellectual compatibility as well, but not so much in a companionate sort of way. That was a relationship built on a high level of mutual attraction and sexual enjoyment. Now, as any of you who've had an amazing sexual relationship would testify to, having that high a level of tension, desire, and satisfaction is ever really only going to be so purely physical -- I mean, it has to be physical, but that only takes you so far. To really get into one another, you really have to turn on each other's minds, and this girl and I did this for each other in abundance.

But of course, in my maturity I will say that that was not "true love", if such a thing truly exists. In the least, that would not be the relationship that I still recall today as having been truly in love.

So the one that was? Well, this would be someone who was completely the wrong person for me for a variety of reasons ... one of which being she's the person who inspired the entry Can We Call That Love? But, without bothering to dredge up the details of that particular relationship too much, I can say that while I'm glad it's over, I'm still much more glad that I experienced it in the first place.

Because this would be the relationship that, in retrospect, I think I would have to say qualified as truly "in love". And I will explain why.

Yes, we were really fantastically matched, intellectually. She's quite brilliant, and I found her quite inspiring. She apparently loved me wit and creativity. And we were fantastic in bed together. Honestly, not only did we impress one another, but I think I can truly say that several times we each surpised ourselves with how good we could be together. So I mean -- it's not like I'm selling the aspects that were great about those other relationships short. I wouldn't, because I do think they are undoubtedly essential, as well.

But. Neither of those is why I would still say, in retrospect, that this was the one time in my life that I was truly in love.

So what made this one relationship so special in comparison to any other one? Well -- I don't know if this is anticlimatic, but honestly it's just how amazing it felt just to simply hold her.

I mean, really -- that sounds a little unlikely to me, but as it happens it's just the truth. Amazing sex, sure. Fantastic conversations, check. But how many people have you known in your life -- where on a regular basis and for at length, you've no need or desire to talk, or for anything more physically active than being in one another's arms?

Honestly. I don't believe that I've ever experienced as clear or pure a feeling of centeredness, or belonging, as I did when I held her. I'm sorry if this will sound like I'm overstating matters ... but I'd go as far as to say in a spiritual and existential sense, I experienced calm and certainty when I held her: This is where I belong.

So I mean -- if you can't call that love, I don't really know what else it might be. And unfortunately, I can't explain why it felt that way for the life of me. It just did the first time we embraced, and every time since.

Of course, it does not escape my attention that I've described this woman as completely the wrong person for me, and I stand by that analysis. So yeah, love is a fantastically confusing thing.

But for my money, if there's one thing to look for in wondering if you're truly in love with someone, or maybe if you should be, I would explain it like this: There's the entire rest of your life, and all the varying degrees of anxiety or distress or happiness or restlessness or whatever else you may have felt while experiencing it.

If, from the very first time you stumbled into that moment, however it happened, you held someone and were held by them ... if suddenly you understood, and from that moment forth your life was reorganized from all the potential chaos and stress possible on the one end of the spectrum, to your finally recognizing the other end of the spectrum in this person's arms: PEACE.

So, yeah. Something that occurred to me while sleeping. As always, I'm very much open to anyone else's thoughts on the matter.