david lean director

Oh, I feel a strange pulling. Iapos;m in the first serious, committed, reciprocal relationship of my life, but itapos;s nothing like I expected. Natural, comforting, steadying - he sets me back to neutral at the end of the day when Iapos;ve been raging with my little angers, passions, and inspirations. Heapos;s my perfect opposite, my perfect fit, my perfection.

But these passions simmer, boil, and rise up in a greedy desire to self-perpetuate. I want to dive in, lose control, get hurt. The sting of temptation for men that live in their bodies, who live in the moment and promise nothing to nobody or anywhere, hurts me as only half that it would him if I were to pursue it.

I am facing the ugliness inside of myself - the quivering insecurities that demand more, more, more, more, and me, me, me, me. My life is so selfish, so insatiable, that I frequently burn out in a desperate clutching for everything: for acknowledgment, for success, for approval.

Transformation marks a great love.
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