Postlove

Maybe love, or our celebration of it within the context of Valentine's Day, is like body surfing some huge ocean waves.... You struggle out from shore, working against the fierceness of the surf, hoping to keep from going under. You succeed in catching a wave, and maybe, just maybe, it's the perfect wave ... or at least, that's how you'll remember it in the future. You catch this wave, you ride it in -- in fact, it's the ride of your life and, remarkably, you don't drown, you make it to shore, completely, happily spent.

Postlove is you, after your monumental push to make this thing happen, lying in the stream of experience and letting it wash over you ... there on the sand, the short foaming wavelets curling around you as you catch your breath, taking a quick inventory, and, though you may be tender, you find no bones broken.

Postlove. It's you, soaked in the sensation, alive to tell the tale.