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  • There was a date.
    I think it's progress: She offered herself to me, and I declined.
    Strange, the impulse to say "no."
    There have certainly been incarnations of me that would have gladly accepted, and done the ensuing work with relish. There are incarnations of me that did.

    Any more, however, I remember the echoes of those encounters more than the events themselves.
    Tears and confusion and anger and remorse.

    With some, there's no problem. They are eyes open and aware, they understand as you do and want as you want.

    But imbalance is deadly. One party seeking one reality, the other, another.
    Accepting her tonight, taking her, would have been the first of many dishonesties.
    Dishonesties I have no room for.

    But man, it would be nice to spend some time in someone's arms, to feel her warmth transferred to me, to hear the gentle exhalation as lips part, skin under fingertips, cycles of eyes locking and losing focus, an arched back, breathing that deepens then stops then releases.

    But let us not confuse what is available with what is right.
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