An Explanation of Why I Vacillate

Subject: An Explanation of Why I Vacillate
Date: 30 Jul 2017

My dear friend,

I feel that I have two halves that rarely form a whole: my heart and my lust. They also cannot be simultaneously and equally satisfied. I have tried attentively to reach this emotional and sexual union, but one of the two seems to monopolize my attention. This is the problem with us my friend, you encourage my lust and it’s greedy intent to distract me from love.

The nature of my capacity to either love or fuck, and also, to love fucking is so expansive and boundless that it cannot be easily satiated. We had some moments many years ago, when you would exhaust me with late nights filled with tension and release. But I still remained hungry the next day. It was as if you were just putting kindling on a fire that could grow to swallow the whole forest.

Our fucking gave me a surreal energy that felt like a super power; it increased my sense perceptions and physical strength. I felt transformed into a huntress who could see in the dark and have whomever she wanted. Except for you. I could never HAVE you.

There were other supernatural gifts our fucking gave me. Like an experienced meditator who loses his ego, attachment to thoughts and language in his sitting practice, I too lost myself when you fucked me. As I slid into my own deep, thoughtless space my singular awareness was of your cock - so deep inside my core. Instinctively, I would squeeze it tightly, quivering with the softness and strength of female flesh. You left me humbled and craving more.

I wish I could show you this letter, so you could understand why I often attempt to end our lusty connection. It isn’t satisfying; certainly not for my heart. For you always come to me cock-loaded, while leaving your heart at home with someone else.

And for my lust, well sir, you do carry the key to unlock my caged collection of primal longings but afterwards you leave the cage door open and I alone have to contend with all those wild animals running in my mind.

You can see now why I vacillate between coldly dismissing you and begging for your presence.

And why I could write you a goodbye letter, and hope that you will come home and take me away.

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