That, perhaps, takes care of the rent-a-human for periodic, infrequent physical transactions.
But, for a companion, perhaps a beating heart that is adaptable, likes to cuddle, likes the outdoors, and debates decently. Witty and intelligent, too.
Also, perhaps someone who (understands why and) does not mind being forgotten for weeks on end so M can regroup and digest. Alone. A l o n e. ALONE. A L O N E.
And if that sex-together-stuff has to occur, perhaps that someone (companion) had better take the lead or possibly nothing will come to a head, maybe just a lot of laughing, sighing, chortling, and crying with absolutely no appropriate ending.
Is it better to be alone than to be alone even with someone?
And if that sex-together-stuff has to occur, perhaps that someone (companion) had better take the lead or possibly nothing will come to a head, maybe just a lot of laughing, sighing, chortling, and crying with absolutely no appropriate ending.
No, not desperate for labels. Have some care.
Actually, it was more of a comment on the conflicts of the heart and mind courtesy of chronic social anxiety.
Either one gets it or one does not... in more ways than one.
Male, perverse, discrete, well-read. A brutal tough-guy type who couldn't stomach the idea of eating meat, but is willing to look the other way on the occasional wearing of leather. Someone younger than Morrissey to appeal to his vanity, and patient enough to hang about and watch hour after hour of obscure, dour cinema.
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