“Dang, it’s hot as hell…it must be 100 degrees in the shade!” I uttered this no less than 24 hours ago as I spied a lovely lady, skimpily clad, with everything in the right place…and yes, it was hot all right. The opening statement brings to mind a conversation I had with a colleague of mine as to whether love is better in the summer as opposed to any other seasonal time. Love and relationships are two of the most complicated concepts to define. Lots of different events and circumstances can come into play, which can enhance, defy stability, or misconstrue feelings of love and commitment. They also have spawned all types of idiosyncratic views of behavioral patterns gauging superlative measure.

Suffice it to say, we men have tendencies that may defy simple reasoning when it comes to anything suggesting logic, lust notwithstanding. In general I know that there would probably be majority vote of anything that may trigger a sense of sexual belonging individually based on preference. Paradoxically, people on the same accord may not always have the same level of emotional connectedness, or the same sexual interests, especially on agreeing what time of the year sex is better. I have my personal views though, which I will share with you. There’s a definite method to my madness. I’ve always felt that summer romances can bloom into what feels like the greatest love of your life. Why? Well, when I think about the easiness of vacationing and not being beholden to a regimen, several things come into play: maybe it's the heat, maybe it's the fact that summer is so short and sweet, or maybe it is just plain lust when the getting seems to be easy… but a woman catering to a carefree attitude, and me aiming to take advantage of ambiance, well…there's something to be said about conquests and the times that are unique – that’s summer!

I remember many summer flings, misplaced summer trysts, and times when hormones were just out of whack! My definitions in depicting how different times of the year can take on different perceptions based on intent can be summed up by how the seasons interact. I base this on choosing companions wisely. I make analogy to it by using those same seasons to illustrate my point. My thirst for a meaningful relationship has taught me many lessons on judgment and the ability to discern. Nowadays, I use deductive reasoning, and common sense to know what I need to make a viable decision. Even using this type of analogy is no guarantee for success. I found out that there’s more than one kind of intimacy, and it can vary depending on the season. To further elucidate this concept and to enhance my reason why summers are best for me, I usually come up with several answers that fuel my fires. It’s all about personal convictions concerning contentment in life, and about growing stronger as I make my choices…having to spring forward with its refreshing buds, fragrant blossoms, and its splashing streams of new hope, for it’s this new lease on life that defines the chance to make new conquests. Alas, summertime is time for fun and relaxation…it’s madness boasting warm breezes, bright illuminated rays of hope, and showing off those sultry, shimmering afternoons with beautiful sunsets. There are long days with lingering nostalgic memories where we dread going back to work. But autumn usually finds me like a fallen leaf, a victim of my overzealous need to fraternize, and often deflated after being turned down by some winsome woman that may have met my fancy.

Nevertheless, as I regain my posture with each invigorating attempt to keep the summer season alive, I’m aware that the kaleidoscope of colors makes earth tones so mesmerizing, are also what keeps birds flocking together in harmonious flight. As I apprehensively await winter’s melancholy mood and its tendency for sadness and no prey in the midst, I’m trapped within my malaise, wounded and a victim of the elements -- but still craving that need for intimacy! My overall assessment of love and lust in whatever season is an ideal, if not a more psychological more than any outward appearance of want. I liken it, rather to something that rings supreme when one can finally come to grips with what makes it best for them. In my quest for satisfaction, I will continue to look for those who share similar values and convictions; I will endeavor to impart whatever knowledge I possess so that their growth is as spontaneous as mine. I profess to gravitate toward that type of mate whom I’d be most apt to recognize as a peer -- someone with whom I may share ideas, concepts, and the best of plans; I need someone who could stimulate me to be my best and achieve the most for all the right reasons and the loftiest purposes.

That blessed person would be someone compatible and compassioned; someone whom I'd look up to that has traveled the path before me, who wouldn't lead me astray, and to whom I could look to for wise council. Last but not least, there is the ideal love where doing it when I feel it’s best for me personifies the goals that I’ve set for myself, for the best season of my lust. Hope doesn’t require a massive chain where heavy links of logic hold it together, but rather a simple loving gesture of compassion in the time of my season. Not only do I now understand what is needed to find what I want and when, I've also found lessons that won’t be forgotten in fostering someone I can trust during that time. And it all comes back to having someone to reach out and touch -- a bridge to a willing heart. It’s someone who, no matter what the circumstances, would be willing to give a much-needed hug or an affectionate kiss on the cheek. Thus, my summers are sexy, and I find that to be the best season for me!