In Bed

Later. In bed.

You have an optimistic and trusting nose, Priya says.

How can you tell? I ask. What have noses got to do with anything?

You can see everything in the nose, Priya says. And the chin. And in the shape of the eyes. And you have such kind fingers, though your thumb looks rather stubborn.

Is this how lovers talk? I ask.

I really wouldn’t recall, Priya says.

What about with Alan? I ask.

That was years ago, Priya says. I’m not sure I want to remember.

Was there a honeymoon period? I ask.

There’s always a honeymoon period, Priya says. Then there was a humdrum period. Then there was a blue period – a fifteen-years-together-and-what-for? period.

And what period are you in now? I ask.

The illicit period, Priya says.

You’re what they would call an attractive couple, I say.

Oh I’m sure we are, Priya says. But I really don’t want to think about it.

You must be comfortably off, I say. Your joint salary …

We’re the bourgeois you no doubt despise, philosopher, Priya says. Upon whom you’re getting your revenge right now.

Is this what this is about?

You’re sticking it to the Man. Or rather, the Man’s wife.

It’s not that.

What was it like the first time you did it? Share your memories, philosopher.

I’m not saying a thing.

Really? Not a thing? It would help me feel close to you. And you want me to feel close to you, don’t you? Didn’t it go well? Didn’t you perform? Is that the trouble?

Not saying.

I lost it at uni. To some poor fool. Some fumbler. I felt I was dissociating. I felt I was miles away and that it was being done to me. Very common experience. It wasn’t a trauma, or anything. It didn’t fuck me up. And what about you, philosopher? What was your formative experience?

I told you. I’m keeping stumm.

You’re essentially a masturbator: I can see that. It’s been all about the masturbation. How many relationships have you actually had? I want numbers. How many lovers have you had? One-night-stands? Aren’t you going to tell me?

One-night-stands are nihilism.

I’ll bet you think relationships are nihilism. Well, aren’t they? They probably get in the way of your work. Come on, philosopher. You’re a man like anyone else. You have needs, like anyone else.

I’ll bet you’d see prostitutes, if you could afford them. I’ll bet you’d go for the girlfriend experience if you could pay for it on an academic salary. Well, wouldn’t you? Someone to be nice to you. To say all kinds of nice things. Who’d think you were just the thing? Would that be what you want?

Would you pay for us, philosopher? Wouldn’t that make it simpler? Make it all a transaction? What would you pay for? What would you like done to you? What services could I render? What do you want? I just want to find out what you want. Don’t you like me being sexual?

All this talking …

You’d just like to get down to it, would you? Do you think that’s how it works?

It’s too easy, your talk … This is all … play for you. It’s a … toying. Some … distraction.

From what – the serious business of life? Of thinking? Of writing magnum opuses?

This is part of some peculiar psych-game with your husband, isn’t it? Some negotiation …

I like my body when it’s with your body. That’s the thing. I like your body. I like what it does. I like how it does it. I like all these things.

You’re a luxuriator. A cat, purring. This is an idyll in life for you. It’s a treat. It’s an indulgence. But it will pass. Your real life is elsewhere.

Would you rather it were here? That I left Alan. Move in with you. Do you think we’d get on? Do you think we could make a life together – me, you and your magnum opus?

Actually, I don’t know if I could live here. It’s a bit cramped. I couldn’t fit in my stuff. I’ve got a lot of stuff …

You’d like a silent, enigmatic mistress, wouldn’t you?  Come on – who would you rather I be? Who should I be for you?

I like you.

I don’t believe you. Do you like being a lover – my lover?

I like it.

Look, I’m trying to work out how to be with you – don’t you see? I want to know who I am for you. What I mean to you – if I mean anything.

You mean something.

I think we might need some sex toys. We need some variety.

Do you think?

So non-committal. Is this what it’s like to be a philosopher? Never involved. Never real. Never physical … I miss you even when I’m with you. You’re not really here, are you? You’re not … listening.

I’m listening.

I’d like to know your entire sexual history, philosopher. When it began, who with, and what happened after. Were you ever with a man? It might suit you, being with a man. Would you prefer it? Ever tempted? I’ve been with a woman.

Of course you have. On your bucket list, was it: losing your gay virginity?

Maybe it shouldn’t be just the two of us. It’s very intense, isn’t it – just the two of us. Always the two of us. No one to bounce off. No one to set us off in new directions. No one to talk about. No other couples, or anything. It’s very … self-devouring …

You think we need a third person?

Do you?  

Isn’t this enough?

I want to do it again, philosopher. Are you wishing I’d shut up? Maybe I’m wishing I’d shut up …