Abhor

I said in a previous blog, "Give me someone who burns the way I burn."

I am continuously drawn back to this. Match me. Exceed my expectations. There is no room for timidity here.

The first night she was pissed because I showed my nerves. She would explode if I were to ask her, "Can I have you?"
I understand. When you want to be swallowed up, the last thing you want to hear is a request for permission.

I am multi-faceted, as is everyone else. I force exhibitionism. I create this alter, this other me. This alter, she exudes fervent sexuality. She rides the men she wants; she seduces the women. She's capable, strong, independent, and in constant need of a fucking. She abhors fragility.

Fragility. It should be a name. The other part of me. The one I too abhor. The one who questions. The one who would dare query, "Can I have you?" The one who thinks, "What if?"

There is no reconciling these two opposing entities. Whether I am Fragile or Exhibitionistic matters little, as I still burn.

It is clever that I can be so many things. I am still playing. I am still trying on so many, many hats. I hope never to be forced to choose just one. No rule exists requiring a permanent hat, right?

Today, give me the Thoroughly Bad one.