Saturday, March 28, 2020

Read The First Chapter Of 'Body and Soul' by Dr. Mario Dell'Olio


Body and Soul 
by 
Dr. Mario Dell'Olio 


Body and Soul

PROLOGUE



Our first touch sent shivers down my spine as he gently pulled me closer; I can still feel the hairs at the base of my neck rising as our cheeks grazed. The scent of him still lingers in my memory, enchanting me as if I were inhaling in his very essence. Before him, I didn’t know that it was possible to desire another person’s touch so desperately, or to need unconditional approval and adoration so helplessly.

Before him, I couldn’t comprehend the impact another man could have on my life and my future. I was 18 years old and it was the most intense relationship I had ever had. I had never encountered such intimacy. He consumed my every thought, my every desire. The gravity of each struggle and the euphoria of each joy surpassed any that had come before. Arguments were more heated; sadness, more poignant; and the delight was ecstasy. I experienced and fiercely savored the depth of each and every new emotion.
Somewhere in my mind I knew that this was forbidden. Guys don’t kiss other guys. But desire prevailed and pushed that thought, along with all others, far from my consciousness. I let my senses take over and guide me the rest of the way. My lips tingled with anticipation until they met his—not urgently, but tenderly exploring. What is this unfamiliar sensation? They were lips like any others I had kissed, yet they felt completely different and I was reeling with unexpected passion. That first tentative kiss was almost reverent, drinking each other in as if from a sacred vessel. Once I had tasted, I longed for more, and our kisses became more fervent and hungry. I wanted to consume this man like no other being I had ever known. My need frightened me, but I could do nothing but acquiesce.
I had never entertained the thought of being with another guy, and I had never felt any sexual passion for girls; I believed I wasn’t meant to be coupled. This served as confirmation that I was meant to become a priest. I came from a traditional Catholic family and I was always drawn to the priesthood.  I also knew that the Church taught against pre-marital sex. Though many of my friends ridiculed the idea that a person shouldn’t have sex before marriage, I was not bothered by it. It didn’t seem so arduous to me, and I wondered what all the fuss was about. I was not as obsessed with sex as most other adolescents. That all changed when I met him.
I couldn’t comprehend my fascination with him, and I began to understand how a sexual relationship could become totally consuming. Though there were many kisses before him, none reached more deeply into my mind and my heart than his. I could have never imagined how this relationship would change my life.

  


CHAPTER 1

Luca
Winter to Spring 1978


I had many girlfriends throughout my high school years, yet no relationship lasted very long. I was fully engaged in the chase: each budding romance brought excitement and challenge. My attention was easily captured and I enjoyed every playful encounter I had with girls. They seemed to connect with me more easily than my male friends. We would chat endlessly and laugh without guile. My female friends would readily confide in me and I in them, creating a familiar intimacy in each successive relationship. This led to my numerous, but short-lived romantic flings.
My best friend John and I made a quick study of flirting with any girls who were receptive. Sitting in the school library, one of us would look up from our homework.
“Hey, I’m bored. Do you want to go flirt?”
“What, and give up this fascinating history essay? Twist my arm! There’s Susan. Let’s go.”
At that, we would run off to chat and joke around with our classmates. It was always good-natured fun and we always found a receptive audience. We were playful and silly, and our targeted audience was quite entertained. The girls we interacted with knew we were harmless: John had a girlfriend, and I was always with one girl or another. They just enjoyed the silly banter, stupid jokes, and over-the-top compliments we gave them.
“Hi Susan. What are you doing?” John would begin.
Then I’d jump in. “Wow, you look great in that blouse. Don’t you think so, John?”
“Luca, Susan always looks good!” John insisted.
“Good one, John,” Susan interjected. “You guys are crazy, completely shameless! Go bother someone else, I have work to do,” she said as she laughed out loud.
“Oh, come on Susan, how could you be so cruel?” I asked plaintively.
“Now you’ve done it. Luca is crushed by your rejection,” John said.
“Alas, Luca, my heart is taken by another,” Susan said, playing along.
“I’ll never forget you Susan! I will wait a hundred years for you,” I replied.
“We’ll be back again tomorrow!” John shouted, and off we’d go to another friend.
 “Oh, I’m sure you will be,” Susan said as she chuckled and waved goodbye.
Connecting with a new, pretty girl filled me with excitement. The dance would begin subtly with eye contact, and then a bit of flirting, followed by a mutual expression of interest. I fully enjoyed the deepening of each friendship as we shared our inner thoughts and emotions. Friendships with other guys didn’t offer the same kind of emotional connection. John was my best friend, but we rarely, if ever, shared our feelings. I longed for deeper relationships, and the girls I dated gave me my first taste of emotional intimacy.

Even so, I was largely indifferent as each relationship waxed and waned. I quickly became infatuated, but my heart always seemed to ache for some new love interest just as swiftly. There was always something missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. I recall looking over at one of my girlfriends and thinking, Why don’t I want to be with her anymore? She’s absolutely gorgeous. She’s smart and funny, and I really like her. But I just don’t feel like going any further with her. I guess we’re just not right for each other. Other times, though, I would simply ask myself, What’s wrong with me? Why am I never satisfied with whomever I’m dating?
In some ways, my dating experience was completely normal. I felt exhilarated by kissing my date and caressing each other in my car at the end of the night. I enjoyed the euphoria of being with a new girl and looked forward to our time alone. But I never sought more. I simply wasn’t that interested in having sex.

One particular instance is burned in my memory. I had been dating Beth for a month or so, and we were getting along well. She was a sophomore and I was a senior. She was adorable with brilliant red hair and green eyes, and hung onto my every word. We were always playful and silly with each other.  I reveled in her admiration, and enjoyed the fact that I could simply be myself with her. With Beth, I didn’t have to act like a certain kind of macho guy.
Often, a whole gang of friends would go out together, and by the end of the evening many of us would pair off with our respective dates. There was always a certain amount of showmanship that accompanied our social interaction. There was competition to see who would be the first to make out in a dark corner. Looking back, I recall being more interested with what my buddies were doing than with the girl I was dating. Were they making out? How far did they go? What were they doing now?
I was still dating Beth by the time my senior prom rolled around. She was elated when I invited her. Not many sophomores got asked by senior boys. Always an event planner, I had organized a pre-prom gathering at my house. It was a non-alcoholic gathering, but my mother made fresh homemade pizza, baked ziti, and many other delicious treats. No one seemed to mind that there was no beer.
It was a warm June evening, and the patio in our backyard provided the perfect backdrop to our gathering. Being an amateur photographer, I staged each couple in front of a rhododendron that was in full bloom. After everyone had their individual photo session, I arranged all the girls on the deck looking down on their dates lined up below. They laughed at my stage direction, but happily complied. John ribbed me mercilessly, saying that I was worse than a wedding photographer. But I relished every moment. It was my senior prom: I knew that it was a rite of passage, and I wanted it to be perfect.

At the prom itself, I danced with many of my friends and bounced from table to table, chatting with everyone. Beth clung to me the entire evening and pouted each time I chose to dance with someone else.
“Come on Beth, it’s not like you’re sitting alone,” I said to her. “You’ve been dancing every time I have. We’ll have some alone time later. For now, let’s be social, OK?”
“But I’m your date. You should be dancing with me, not all these other girls,” she whined.
“Seriously, Beth? Everyone is dancing with their other friends. That’s just what we do,” I explained impatiently. Her neediness was annoying me, and I was beginning to realize that I was bored with the relationship.

After the prom, it was customary for couples to go down to the shoreline and park, with the goal being to watch the sun come up after fooling around in the car all night. After Beth and I said goodbye to our friends, we drove down to the river. The Hudson was beautiful, and there were numerous hidden spots to park away from prying eyes. I had found a clearing in the trees where we could see the moon reflected in the water. It was incredibly romantic.
It was approximately 4 a.m. when we settled in. Beth scooted over to me and removed my bowtie. I leaned in and began to kiss her as she unbuttoned my ruffled shirt. We were getting hot and heavy, and yet I felt as if I were simply going through the motions. As things progressed, Beth became more and more assertive. She placed my hand on her breast, while her hand reached between my legs. As she became more aroused, she slid her spaghetti straps down her shoulders and lowered the top of her gown. It was pleasant enough, but I began to lose interest. I just wasn’t into it, but I knew that this was what was expected, so I played along. However, I wasn’t making any moves to go further. Beth decided to take the lead as she unzipped my pants and tugged at my briefs. Though I was aroused, I had no desire to have sex with her.
“I need a breather,” I said as I began to pull away.
“I don’t. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” she said as she kissed my neck and down my chest.

It felt good, but I just couldn’t go any further. I wiggled out of her embrace and put my hand on her shoulder.
“Hold on Beth. It’s 5 a.m., and I’m exhausted. Let’s just call it a night, OK?”
She lifted her head and look at me in disbelief. It sounded like I was rejecting her affection. She had trouble taking no for an answer and continued to caress me. With a mischievous smile on her face, she unfastened my pants, and her hands reached down to grabbed hold of me. I jumped at her forceful grip and pulled away immediately.
“No, Beth! Let’s not. I think it’s time to head home.”
“What’s the matter, Luca? Don’t you like me anymore?” She said as she placed her hand on me once again. I gently put my hand over hers and moved it away.
“Look, it’s not that. I’m just tired. It’s been a very long night and I need to get home.”

She knew I was lying, but couldn’t understand why. Any other boy would have jumped at her willingness to have sex. I could practically hear the questions running through her head: Is there something wrong with me? Why is he treating me like this? We were silent for the entire drive home.
In the weeks that followed, she began to resent me. I had rejected her and she felt humiliated. She could tell I wasn’t attracted to her anymore. I knew there was no hope of repairing our relationship, and we broke up shortly before graduation. In my mind, there was nothing unusual about how we ended things. Every relationship I’d had with a girl had ended in a similar way. At a certain point, I just began to lose interest. Never did I suspect that I might be more interested in boys. That concept was completely foreign to me.

I didn’t reflect on my feelings all that much. I was enjoying the end of my high school years and looking forward to new adventures in college. Worrying about girls wasn’t at the top of my list. Little did I know that there would be cataclysmic changes ahead of me. College life would bring many new experiences that would capture my attention and rock my small, comfortable world.

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