teaching you.'
She made a face, then asked 'Well, if you can't help me get my mind straight with your words, can you at least help me by letting me sit on your lap, and holding me?'
I smiled at her and answered 'that I can do – and be glad for the chance.'
She got up and came over to where I was sitting, then turned and sat down so that she was facing away from me. Tucking her legs in next to her, she scooted back until she was resting against my chest. I put my arms around her and held her close as she let her head tilt over to rest against my shoulder. As cute and sexy as she was, I was glad to have her on my lap and in my arms; but she'd said she just wanted me to hold her, so that was all I did. I regretted that she was troubled the way she was, but there really wasn't anything I could do that would clear things up for her – it simply had to come from her if it was going to work.
After about twenty minutes or so, I heard her ask 'Dan?'
'Yes, dear?'
'Would you make love with me?'
Seemingly coming out of nowhere like that, her question surprised the hell out of me. With a few gentle nudges, I managed to convince her to turn around so that we could look at each other before I asked 'Why are you asking me that, Crissy?'
'You made love with Sheri last night, and now she's so much different than she was before. I mean, just talking to her last night, I could tell that she was more like Kelly and Jan than I thought she could ever be. For the first time in my life, I'm actually jealous of her – and I hate feeling that way about her. You made love to her last night, and now she's somehow a better person. I want to make love with you so I can see if I'll be a better person, too, like her.' Looking into her face, I could see that Crissy was quietly crying, her tears slowly running down her cheeks.
Cupping her face in my hands, I used my thumbs to brush the tears away before I told her 'Crissy, its not the making love that changed her. She changed because of what we said to each other before we made love. She told me that making love with me was something that made her happier than she'd ever been before – but even she admitted that if we'd made love before we talked, it wouldn't have been as nice for her as it was. Please, Crissy – whatever else you do in life, please, please don't ever make love with someone just because you think you have to for some reason. Making love with someone, the way Kelly and Jan and I mean it, is something so much better than just having sex – and if you're ever with someone just because you think you have to, or should, then all you'll be doing is having sex; it simply isn't possible to make love if it isn't for the right reasons.'
After a moment, she asked 'So you're telling me you won't do it? You won't make love with me, even though I asked you to?'
I knew my voice made it clear that it hurt me to tell her 'That's right. I'm telling you 'no'.'
I could see her get angry as she asked me 'Why won't you? You made love with Sheri, and we're twins, so I know it isn't because you don't think I'm pretty enough. Did she do something that you don't think I'll do? I will! I promise, whatever you want, I'll do it!'
I tried to cup her face again, but she just shook me off. I told her 'No, it isn't because you're not pretty – I promise you, you are. And no, Sheri didn't do anything that I don't think you would do, either.'
Visibly outraged by then, Crissy asked 'Then why won't you make love to me? I'm sitting here on your lap, stark naked; and I'm asking you to make love to me – a virgin! Why the hell won't you do it, then?'
Quietly, I told her 'Because I love you too much, Crissy.'
I think it was my quiet tone that convinced her to actually think about the words that I'd said. For a couple of seconds there, I actually thought that she just might slap me; then she paused, and after a minute or so, she asked 'You… love me? You're telling me that you won't make love to me because… you love me?'
'That's what I'm telling you – because its true.'
She considered that for a bit before asking 'How can you love me, and not be willing to make love with me?'
'Because we're using love in different ways, you and I.'
'How's that?'
'When I say 'love', I mean that your happiness is as important to me as my happiness is. And when I say 'make love', what I mean is that I want to share my heart and my mind with the other person, as well as my body. What you mean by 'make love' is that you just want to share your body. Most guys would do that, and be damn glad for the chance. But I'm not most guys – I already know that there's a huge difference between the sharing-your-body making love, and making love the way I mean it. You might not think so, but I already know that if I used your body, it might make you feel good – for today. Hell, maybe even tomorrow, and the day after that. But sooner or later, there would come a time when you would be sorry that it happened. And when that time came, what happened today would start to eat away at you – like a tiny bit of rust on a car that just keeps getting bigger and bigger, until there's nothing left. You would regret that you ever offered to let me use your body that way, and it would eat away at your heart, and your mind. So because I love you – the way that I mean 'love' – I'm not willing to make love to you in the way that you mean 'make love'. Instead of making you a little bit happy now, and a lot unhappy later; I love you enough to do the opposite: make you a little unhappy now so that you'll be a lot happy later.'
When I finished, she just sat there, staring at me – or more correctly, staring through me; she seemed to be focused on a point about seventeen miles beyond where I was sitting. Looking at her, I could almost see her thinking about what I'd just said.
Without disturbing her, I managed to get her leaning against me again, and put my arms around her to hold her.
A couple of minutes went by before I heard her softly say 'Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. It is simple.'
I just sat there, not saying anything, smiling to myself as I continued to hold her.
Several more minutes passed, and she said 'You love us. You, and Kelly, and Jan, and Candice, and the others. All of you love us.'
'We do', I agreed.
'And you gave yourselves to us – talking to us, even though you must have known that we were pretty much blowing you off, and taking advantage of you.'
'We did.'
'And even knowing what we were doing, you still kept letting us come over here, and answering our goofy-ass questions like they really meant anything. And you kept talking to us as though we were even half as smart and sophisticated as we thought we were.'
'Yup.'
'And you dared expose yourselves to us – not just your hearts and your minds, but your bodies, too; knowing that if any of us got a hair up our ass, you were all risking jail.'
'That's right.'
'You gave so much of yourselves to us, knowing that we were taking it from you and giving you so little back – just because you cared what happened to us, and hoping that we would get our heads out of our asses long enough to appreciate what you were doing, and maybe become the kind of people that you are.'
'You've got it.'
She sat up and turned to look at me, her face a mix of emotions: awe, shame, amazement, guilt, and a lot more. Looking into my eyes, she said 'And through all of it, you cared for us, and taught us, and most of all, loved us. Dear God, what kind of people you must be, that you have that much love and strength inside you!'
I gave her a gentle smile and said 'Crissy, if you understand all that, then I think you'll find that you've got the love and strength inside you, too.'
She just stared at me for a minute as she looked inside herself – and finding what I knew she would. Stunned, she just looked at me and asked 'How did you know? That it was there, inside me?'
'Because I realized that it is for damn near everybody', I answered. 'Most people don't bother looking in the first place. The few that do look are either searching outside, or so busy thinking that its something big and complex, instead of accepting that its something as simple as it is. I don't know how many times I thought about it then tossed it aside because I thought it had to be something more complicated than that. But then you finally realize that everything in the universe can be made out of little more than a hundred different elements – and that even those elements are only made up of three basic pieces, in various combinations and quantities. So why should knowing how to be truly happy be so complicated? I learned that it doesn't have to – and I've been able to pass
