In fact, it was me that had the problem, but I wanted to transfer it. Though soon
whatever I did came back upon me, spoiling even those "authentic", as I called them, moments. My
escape became a prison since it didn't offer me peace. And peace needed time to return, as I know
now, and not a sexual relief that lasted for such a short time as to lead me astray into wrong
Now what came over me and I dived into self-analysis? It's that I love you and
only then can I "confess" and perhaps be appeased ...
I'm left with this animal magnetism, which literally devoured me
... It was the era of instinct, which led me astray to believe that some secretly charged
moments, could mean that I live a great love! Nonsense. Love needs everything ...