15 September 2014

Love...Probably too much? (version in English)


I loved very much in my life, so much. I loved a few women, but in my own way I loved them all, receiving from them only a few caresses, a few good words, with a couple of them also something more affection or time of physical love, that I realized, with the time, being pure acting, conventional act of allowing women to be loved and desired, without having to do anything other than some trivial time sex.

I loved everybody in my own way, but not as one loves a musical instrument or object antique: I loved with the heart and the brain, up to the maximum limit, especially with one of them. I have often heard criticisms of this way of love, in which it is apparent that I would be great to fuck with your brain and not with sex. Unfortunately, Mother Nature did not give me with a few more inches in height (and there would have been good) and even a reproductive organ suited to meet adequately the spawning of some hot women.

Unfortunately, I am what you see and nothing more, along with the drama of never having been loved properly from the biological mother, and after many years these discrepancies with normal life feel, accuse, make you feel different, more isolated from others that those who do not have help by Nature. I have often thought of in terms destructive judgments free women against certain men: therefore, if a man is not rich, tall, handsome and with Walter long and hard that lasts over two hours, which should be done? Commit suicide? Disappear from the Earth? Insulate yourself? Just go to prostitutes?

A fortune I've had: Mother Nature and Life taught me, day by day, hour by hour, to love and to overcome all the difficulties, even when I was saying "I do not know a lot of content, sexually, but for purposes well with the brain could possibly be with you. "

I loved it, I said, so much, but never with one of them, which really gave it my all, both psychologically and practically, emotionally. To love means to give of themselves without asking for anything, they say, and it's true. But the axiom is also said that to love is to be in two, and then becomes finding you love and you receive all good things. Everything becomes very, very difficult, however, if love is only one of the two, while the other accepts willingly, but maintains a constant low level of response for fear of having a hearing tomorrow responsibilities unintended or look. Here, in the majority of women with me it was always like this, including my mother. Low level, never anything more, not even asking.


For years I wondered "why '", then suddenly came, "she", the monster, the Muse, the female par excellence, the queen bee, the Mantis, the Holy, the doll, the cat, the noble, the educated, the sailor. You, the one that made ​​me realize my mistakes, which helped me to find the will to live after the attempt to do away with many years ago and for which my IO, my subconscious, it was closed so tight and further wanted to have anything to do with the earthly life.



(from the book not yet completed "And you came into my life" - copyright©mikhaillermontov 2014)

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