There is no coming to consciousness without pain.
People will do anything, no matter how absurd,
in order to avoid facing their own soul.
One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light,
but by making the darkness conscious.
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods;
There is a rapture on the lonely shore;
There is society, where non intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but nature more…
The first time you traced my body with hungry hands over slippery cloth, I discovered a depthless passion. Your first touch on my nipples, made me wet for years. The first time the head of your gorgeous cock barely parted my swollen, panting lips, I heard the rush of your moan and I never wanted to rebuild that dam.
The first time you picked me up and placed me on the bed, I was lost for wanting all of you in every way. The first time you reached for my hand, I found myself. Your first cum with me made me cry; you were so beautiful. And you remain so. Even in the shadow.
I am what I am. Soft and wanting more of you. This need is not lip service; it is the broken dam, the swinging branch that holds the brass ring, the gasp of falling falling falling, the sweet smell of my wet soaking me, awaiting you.
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery store, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets.
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.
She remembers when you forget.
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
