Haven't I? - he thought. Haven't I thought of it since the first time I saw you? Haven't I thought of nothing else for two years? ...He sat motionless, looking at her. He heard the words he had never allowed himself to form, the words he had felt, known, yet had not faced, had hoped to destroy by never letting them be said within his own mind. Now it was as sudden and shocking as if he were saying it to her ...Since the first time I saw you ...Nothing but your body, that mouth of yours, and the way your eyes would look at me, if ...Through every sentence I ever said to you, through every conference you thought so safe, through the importance of all the issues we discussed ...You trusted me, didn't you? To recognize your greatness? To think of you as you deserved - as if you were a man? ...Don't you suppose I know how much I've betrayed? The only bright encounter of my life - the only person I respected - the best business man I know - my ally - my partner in a desperate battle ...The lowest of all desires - as my answer to the highest I've met ...Do you know what I am? I thought of it, because it should have been unthinkable. For that degrading need, which would never touch you, I have never wanted anyone but you ...I hadn't known what it was like, to want it, until I saw you for the first time. I had thought : Not I, I couldn't be broken by it ...Since then ...For two years ...With not a moments respite ...Do you know what it's like, to want it? Would you wish to hear what I thought when I looked at you ...When I lay awake at night ...When I hear your voice over a telephone wire ...When I worked, but could not drive it away? ...To bring you down to things you cant conceive - and to know that it's I who have done it. To reduce you to a body, to teach you an animal's pleasure, to see you need it, to see you asking me for it, to see your wonderful spirit dependent on the upon the obscenity of your need. To watch you as you are, as you face the world with your clean, proud strength - then to see you, in my bed, submitting to any infamous whim I may devise, to any act which I'll preform for the sole purpose of watching your dishonor and to which you'll submit for the sake of an unspeakable sensation ...I want you - and may I be damned for it!
We love men because they can never fake orgasms, even if they wanted to.
Because they write poems, songs, and books in our honor.
Because they never understand us, but they never give up.
Because they can see beauty in women when women have long ceased to see any beauty in themselves.
Because they come from little boys.
Because they can churn out long, intricate, Machiavellian, or incredibly complex mathematics and physics equations, but they can be comparably clueless when it comes to women.
Because they are incredible lovers and never rest until we’re happy.
Because they elevate sports to religion.
Because they’re never afraid of the dark.
Because they don’t care how they look or if they age.
Because they persevere in making and repairing things beyond their abilities, with the naïve self-assurance of the teenage boy who knew everything.
Because they never wear or dream of wearing high heels.
Because they’re always ready for sex.
Because they’re like pomegranates: lots of inedible parts, but the juicy seeds are incredibly tasty and succulent and usually exceed your expectations.
Because they’re afraid to go bald.
Because you always know what they think and they always mean what they say.
Because they love machines, tools, and implements with the same ferocity women love jewelry.
Because they go to great lengths to hide, unsuccessfully, that they are frail and human.
Because they either speak too much or not at all to that end.
Because they always finish the food on their plate.
Because they are brave in front of insects and mice.
Because a well-spoken four-year old girl can reduce them to silence, and a beautiful 25-year old can reduce them to slobbering idiots.
Because they want to be either omnivorous or ascetic, warriors or lovers, artists or generals, but nothing in-between.
Because for them there’s no such thing as too much adrenaline.
Because when all is said and done, they can’t live without us, no matter how hard they try.
Because they’re truly as simple as they claim to be.
Because they love extremes and when they go to extremes, we’re there to catch them.
Because they are tender they when they cry, and how seldom they do it.
Because what they lack in talk, they tend to make up for in action.
Because they make excellent companions when driving through rough neighborhoods or walking past dark alleys.
Because they really love their moms, and they remind us of our dads.
Because they never care what their horoscope, their mother-in-law, nor the neighbors say.
Because they don’t lie about their age, their weight, or their clothing size.
Because they have an uncanny ability to look deeply into our eyes and connect with our heart, even when we don’t want them to.
Because when we say “I love you†they ask for an explanation.
We often think of peace as the absence of war, that if powerful countries would reduce their weapon arsenals, we could have peace. But if we look deeply into the weapons, we see our own minds- our own prejudices, fears and ignorance. Even if we transport all the bombs to the moon, the roots of war and the roots of bombs are still there, in our hearts and minds, and sooner or later we will make new bombs. To work for peace is to uproot war from ourselves and from the hearts of men and women. To prepare for war, to give millions of men and women the opportunity to practice killing day and night in their hearts, is to plant millions of seeds of violence, anger, frustration, and fear that will be passed on for generations to come.
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