Oftentimes when we’re looking for a new relationship, we tell our friends, “I want a man who’s normal. Stable. No drama!” But is that really what we want?

No more drama. I’ve said it. Often on the heels of a relationship that was a bit rocky. And I’d move on to the next, intent on no drama. One such no-drama relationship, or more accurately, low drama, lasted three years, on and off. We were more companions, than lovers. We shopped and hiked and cooked and played board games with his kids. Rarely did we work up much passion about anything, except maybe the best pan for a frittata. This low passion, low drama theme included our sex life. In fact, sex with this man occurred only occasionally, and even then, it generally was lackluster. No, this was a low-drama, low-passion relationship. Mostly because the man himself was lacking in passion. I recall concluding at the end of that one: “No more men who lack passion.” But was I really saying, “I need some damn drama”?

Fast forward to Mack. Mack is a passionate man. Mack could fairly be called a drama king. And my relationship with Mack is the most passionate I’ve had in all my forty-seven years. Which has me wondering whether drama and passion go hand in hand. If drama and passion go hand in hand, would I be willing to give up the passion in order to rid myself of the drama?

Tonight I can fairly answer that question with a resounding, no. I realize that I need passion in my life. I need all the pretty colors. Dare I say it? I need drama. Realizing that, admitting that, makes me feel somewhat ashamed. But also, it’s liberating.

So I’ll say it again: I need passion. I therefore need the drama that fuels that passion.

Yes, drama is fuel. Consider make-up sex. Everyone knows make-up sex is fantastic. And angry sex. Angry sex is good, too. What about hi-honey-how-was-your-day sex? How’s that? Yeah, it’s okay. But not the stuff you tell your girlfriends about over sushi the next night. To have a passionate sex life, you need to put two passionate people together. Passionate people are by nature prone to dramatics. It’s the nature of the beast. I’m finally realizing now, with Mack, that drama is not necessarily a bad thing. It fuels the best sex I’ve ever had. And it fuels the best love I’ve ever had. Without doubt, I love this man. Without doubt, my passion for him is off the charts. Without doubt, we engage in dramatics.

I realized today that the whole thing goes in a cycle. Well, Mack said, “It’s your cycle, honey.” And I realized what he said is true. But it’s not my cycle alone, which is what he meant. It’s our cycle. The cycle includes an argument, make-up sex, a period of calm and sweetness, another argument, more make-up sex, and then the calm. Is this normal? I don’t know. Is it to be avoided in a “healthy” relationship? I don’t know. Does it work for Mack and me? It seems to.

Tonight, as we revel in a calm phase, it occurs to me that the goal is not to avoid the drama (and in turn, the passion), but to manage it. To know that it is indeed a cycle, and that when we’re in the throes of it, this does not spell the demise of our relationship. It’s a cycle. It will pass. While tensions slowly will rise over one thing or another, the tension will reach a crescendo resulting in passionate love-making, followed by a period of calm and sweetness. Over time tensions will rise again. We’ll argue. And then we’ll make up. In bed. And then we’ll coast a while.

Would I give Mack up to have a drama-free life? That’s like asking if I would prefer a life without passion. I love the passion Mack brings to my life. I love that he has replaced so many years of gray with a whole rainbow of colors. Including the deepest of purples.

It’s our cycle, honey.