Three Weeks in San Francisco

Some philosophy of love

He props himself up on one elbow.
“You know, you have a habit of interrupting me just when I’m about to sound profound.”

She traces a line along his chest.
“Maybe I do not like profundity in bed.”

“You came to a philosophy group on a Sunday. You knew what you were in for.”

“I came because of Nagel.”

“That makes two of us.”

She laughs. Her accent makes the laugh sound like a private joke.
“Is the group just a way to meet girls? Or is that part of your philosophy too?”

He smiles. “That sounds like an accusation.”

“It is curiosity. I am only here for two weeks. I have nothing to accuse.”

“I started the group fifteen years ago. I was married then.”

“And now?”

“Now I run a philosophy group where sometimes beautiful French women show up.”

She rolls onto her back, stares at the ceiling.
“I read the Nagel paper again on the plane. The way he describes sex—as mutual recognition, as being seen through the eyes of the other—it is almost… sacred.”

“He has that line about the ‘double endorsement’—that in sex, you don’t just desire someone, you desire their desire of you.”

“Yes. That was the first time I read that thought and felt understood.”

“You said that in the group.”

“I felt I could say it.”

He watches her. Her hair is slightly tangled, and she seems unconcerned.
“Did it ever happen to you?” he asks.

“What?”

“That feeling. The sacred one.”

She pauses. “Maybe tonight.”

He looks away. She notices.

“I don’t mean it romantically,” she says. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?”

“Do you?”

“No,” he admits. “But I’m older. I’ve given up pretending to know.”

She reaches for a glass of water, drinks, then sets it down carefully.

“You said today that romantic love is a mirror,” she says. “That was not Nagel. That was you.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me more.”

“It’s when you look into another person and see something you didn’t know was you. Not because they reflect you back like a narcissistic pool—but because they challenge you to become visible to yourself.”

“That is beautiful.”

“It’s terrifying.”

“Is that why you divorced?”