I don't know what I want from this world. I do know that I want Henry. He is just so attractive. He is self assertive, masculine, and optimistic. I love the way he averts his eyes also when he sees me. It tells me that he is shy or is trying to seduce me by manipulating me. It's all a myth though, an illusion essentially. The ancient Greek playwrite, Aristophanes, thought that humans were once whole. They were split in two by the Gods. Love is our desire to be one again, to find our other half. That's not what love is at all. Love is forgetfulness. Love is deception. Nature puts a spell on us and tells us that our natural enemy, man, is something or someone whom I or a female desires. The desire is delocalized into the will and made real, concrete. The real impulse that lies behind it is the desire for children and with that, the desire for immortality... to pass on our traits to another generation so that we may live the illusion of our souls. Henry. What am I supposed to do? Pretend to be seduced by his charms, to become another badge of his vanity, a starry trophy that he can gaze upon and see as the prize that he always deserved... pleasure, that's the key. That's the one thing I truly find to be a repetitive motive of modern life. There was a time when it took time and pain and work, it certainly was not immediate. Pleasure... it was the goal of a long and extended process as in the Bible when Jacob finds pleasure in his true wife after 14 years, is it? What's the point of love, that intoxicating flow of the soul into feeling, that spell in which the sight of the other is pleasure or even deeper, the mirror of one's soul altogether, knitting away at one's pain, and finding the key in the present moment of always. He could rob you blind, suck out the venom of a woman's soul, destroy the prolonged contempt of women for men, the stronger sex, the mythologized sex, the superior sex, etc. etc. etc. Look at me, though, an owner of a jewelry store, speaking as though I were the crown jewel of civilization. And what am I supposed to say anyway? That I would submit or just enjoy a flicker of that intoxication that Henry brings me. I don't know. All I know is that I simply enjoy being prized, especially when my feelings are sublimated into spiritual bliss, candle lights and I can almost hear the voice of the souls of other. I would blink. I would flow and love would simply be a footprint, the ground on which I walked, not this heavy, useless burden of the heart.