Chapter 1 - there was a time once

There was a time when I genuinely thought that I wanted a moderate man. I was so sure I wanted the slender, bookish type, not given to overindulgence in food or in drink. I really thought I wanted a man gentle in his manners, quiet and serious.
Ah, well.
I suppose we were all young and foolish once.
The self who wanted a cold silent man fancied herself austere and wise, her place someone in the cold clouds above the other mortals. Then again, she was a silly creature, and a lonely one, too proud to laugh or dance.
She faded away somewhere in the transition between teenager and adult, and I can't say I miss her.
The self I grew into has a very different set of fantasies and ideals, mostly shaped by genuine experience. I suppose there's no real harm in moderation, but it's no longer a thing I seek, not now that I've found him.
No, I've found a man who knows how to enjoy the world. He is a a man who will eat his fill, until his belly stands out tight before him, a man who'll enjoy his wine and bear, until he finds himself dizzy, giddy, reeling with drink. He is a man who laughs long and loud and often, who savors his books as much as he does his food, one who loves the water and the land, the crowds of cities, and the chorus of crickets at night.
He is a man brimming with passion, one who seeks satisfaction at any hour of the day or night, and who grows hard and eager at the thought of satisfying me.
My younger self may have looked askance at me, for choosing a man with so little self control, and I honestly have to laugh at her now. Why did I ever want someone so bent on self-denial.
"Do you think your teenage self would have approved?" I asked him once. We had gotten halfway through an awful animated version of Puss in Boots, which had lured us in with the false promise of William Shatner voicing the title character, before giving up and cuddling instead. His arms were large and bare, and the bottle of wine split between us did a lot to make the movie more tolerable.
"Of the movie? It's shit."
"No, of this. Of us." His belly was soft against my back, and his three-day beard scratchy against my shoulders.
"He'd better!" He laughed. "Though I'm really not sure. I was an uptight, self-righteous bastard back in the day."
It's a hard thing to believe, seeing him now.
Still, I suppose we were all young once.