Maybe it isn't that surprising that the two would go together.
They are after all, a part of being alive, feeling alive.
Still, it is a powerful tonic that I drank this week.
It is not an isolated feeling, I've felt it before, just a few times as strongly as this though.
Once before, years back now, I felt it with an unequalled intensity, but that was because it was grief.
My ex partner was in the deep belly of grief, the sudden loss of a young family member brought unsettled darkness. We sat there together night after night, grief wrenched her body and I held her wails in my cradling arms until they softened but the rawness was still there. The rawness became passion, laced with tenderness and we were fucking. Hard. I remember thinking then that it had been devouring, like a need to suck and take all of the life there was in the room so it existed. Life was still there.
And then to now. And indented with this most recent experience.
In one moment I was softly gasping, in the next I was softly sobbing. One lead to the other, and then they were both merged, like a pool of tears and arousal slopping around in my gut. Every part of me felt so fully and viscerally connected to him, I had clammy cheeks and it all stayed with me throughout the day. It needed a leather belt to thrash in to it.
I'm not grieving, but sometimes there is just a sadness there. A beautiful life-connecting sadness. If you feel something so intensely then maybe it's only natural that a contrasting emotion would then appear; joy tipped in to sadness, or sadness and joy always there together teetering on the edge.
There is not really a purpose to this post, it is just that the feeling won't leave me, so I wanted to try and understand it.