Heartsick and broken


The desire you awaken in me is endless, all-encompassing. The responses of my body at your every word render me senseless with need, and in its throes I feel myself letting go of all inhibitions and any limits to what I would do or give, perhaps beyond even what should  be given, in my hunger to please you.

No, love, not because you would require or demand it of me, but because I burn with the desire to satisfy you, to fulfill every wish, to therefore share and savor every experience you have described, and still more, and still more… your draw so strong that I feel as if I cannot resist it, and what’s more that I do not want to resist it.

I feel myself losing any wish to hold anything back from you, to withhold myself in any way.  Unrestricted and uninhibited, I would yield everything to you; would willing share with you and give for your pleasure every part of myself, body and soul, until there is simply nothing left of me. It should make me afraid — if I were wise I would  be afraid — but instead it feels so right, perhaps even inevitable. Surely this means something inside of me must be broken, and yet I feel as if yielding fully, trusting to your control, would make me so deeply and inexpressibly satisfied… 

My very being is aflame, for you have set me on fire, and I ache with it… If only, if only…

The intrusion of harsh reality, however, is a sea of icewater on that fire.  There is an objective wrongness to the situation, and I manage to ignore it much of the time, because of the strength of the attraction, but beneath my denial, it’s still there.  I want to share myself with you so completely, as if I were yours — as if I were literally made  to be possessed by you — but I am not yours. And — despite either your care and the desire you express for me, or the hold you have long had and may well always  have on my heart — you are not, do not wish to be, cannot be mine.

You are someone else’s.

I might forget it for a moment, while we share these fantasies, but eventually circumstances bring it back to me, suddenly and ever fiercer in its severity.  It grounds me instantly, interrupting the electric current you otherwise pass through my body — that every warm thought, every tempting word is stolen from someone else; that every pleasure I might otherwise joyfully give to  you would be at someone else’s expense — In an instant, it washes away the desire and bathes me instead in shame and regret; it shakes me until I am almost ill from it.

Even later, as the wave of it begins to pass — and it does, at least temporarily, pass — I realize that if we continue as we are, this feeling will return again as surely as the tides. I cannot help but wonder when it will strike next:

  • In the last moment when we are on the threshold of passion?
  • In the hour, day or week after?
  • Or even in the midst of the act itself?

I imagine the cruel unfairness of such a moment, when the wave might strike me, unannounced and unexpected, and change me in an instant — even in your arms, even past the moment of no return — from hot to cold, from willing to withdrawn, from shuddering with desire to shaking with guilty dread.

I know beyond all knowing that you would not want me to feel that way… and I would feel that much worse, knowing that I could no longer give or do for you, uninhibited and joyfully, the things we might otherwise have shared.

We are not in a situation that will allow us to meet each other’s needs and desires without that risk.

You fill me with longing, with want, with need. I ache to give, to share and to experience everything with you. To meet every desire you have expressed, and to discover those you haven’t yet revealed to me.

I want all, but I can have none, and I’m heartsick because I don’t know how to survive in this middle ground.

(Nov 14, 2012)

~ by lorakceel on January 14, 2012.

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