For years I have lived a fantasy of loving you, totally and completely. A need to fill my empty space with softness. A dream to ease the pain that comes from living without feeling – without this fantasy.
I embrace conflicting ways: one is sharing a night together – to create memories – to nurture and sustain – and to bring you to me when I am alone – for as long as I am capable of feeling. The other is to give transcendence to desire and live a myth that makes it all so proper, even though both are but reflections of my own vain imaginings.
But in reality, if you should ever ask me to love you, and passion was established as the boundary of desire, I would experience the completeness of contentment and be fulfilled.
Or if you should ask that I be by your side – and nothing more – I would welcome the opportunity to sit at your feet, become your servant, inhale the fragrance of your being, and ask for nothing more – and love you none the less.