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There is you and me in the dark, and you and me in the light; two separate entities that rarely coexist peacefully.

I try to imagine what it must be like to be loved, fully and completely. Accepted for who and what I am. Loved, in spite of it all. Loved, because of it all. I try to imagine what making love might feel like in this ultimate scenario. Love and sex mixed together, seamlessly. I cannot say with absolute certainty that this coexistence is impossible in real life. I hope for it, but I don’t expect it. The ideal, in practicality, is bits and pieces from this person and that person, at this time, and at that time. Never all at the same time with the same person. This idea doesn’t sadden me. Instead, I am happy to have had the realization. It’s certainly better than chasing a fantasy, to be eternally disappointed with the same lackluster result each and every time.

In you I experience the acceptance of another. I do not need to hide myself. I’m sure I hide some things some times, but it’s not intentional. You never know what tricks the mind will play. I trust you with what you see in me. Good and bad. In the dark you embrace me, seemingly enraptured by all you see, hear, smell, feel and taste. In the light, I don’t trust you at all.

I am not a patient person. I want it all. I want it now. I want more. More and more and more until I have too much and I’m not at all happy with what I’ve got. Are we all like this?

We have tried it many different ways, at many different times. Each new attempt embraced wholly as if we had never failed before. I would like to know what you’re thinking. Something much simpler, I’d imagine. It doesn’t really matter. My perception is reality. As long as I don’t expect anything from you, we’ll be just fine.

But I will expect something, and we will fail again. This is the last time. I promise.

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