In order to love, to fully experience love, you must experience desperation, humiliation, powerlessness. This is what it truly entails. This is the experience, the clawing, the learning, the passion. What is rational, what is controlled, what is restricted is not passion. Passion cannot be contained. Oh… yes it can.

I contained mine for you, my love. I censored mine, restricted mine, held it back. What’s the good of it if in the end I cannot yet experience it fully. It would not have been difficult, my love. It would not have been difficult to convince me, to entice me, to seduce me, to fool me. You could have had me, dear. I would not have been difficult. If you had simply reached out. If you had had half a cojon, if you had naively demanded atonement, acceptance, you could have shown a glimmer of a struggle, you might have exposed an ounce of need, of want, desire, desperation, you might have shown some desperation; and I might have succumbed. Surely, I would have succumbed. I am a sucker, you see, a sucker for passion, a sucker love, a sucker for life, for adventure, for strife. I am.