This week I finished reading the fifth adventure from my favourite succubus: Georgina Kincaid, from the american writer Richelle Mead. Georgina's constant drifting between love, lust and morals, as always, has stirred some thinking and restlessness inside me.
I've always been a honest man, and i'm not ashamed to say that like many man, lust drives my thoughts more often than not. Rarely i would deny a chance to get down and dirty with any girl as I don't believe in the common moral code of having sex only with your loved one, though that doesn't mean i actively hit on every girl that crosses my scope.
Sex for me means deepening the connection with someone you care. I've had a fair amount of friends which whom i got down to business: No love, no regrets, just a deep and profound care and respect for each other, and the promise of fun while it lasts. There will be no breakfast in bed, no bouquets and no future implications. Just a friendly sly look each time your eyes cross: recalling how you shared something special.
On the other side, i do believe in love. I have experienced it to the last of it's heartbreaking consequences. It's a feeling that can make you cross barriers never trespassed and face harms you won't endure for any other reason. My last relationship was pretty damn long and i always thought that was to last forever. I was a faithful companion and was rewarded with a long period of happiness and partnership. The pain of the loss was something i certainly won't like to go through again, but i managed to overcome. On the downside however i became more unable to feel than i ever was: i have the feeling that i burned with so much passion that now i'm dead cold inside.
I don't care much about horoscopes, but if something is true about what they write from my sign is: I don't love easy but when i do i really mean it.
Sometimes people ask me if i do believe in gods. My only answer is that i don't. No religion and no god whatsoever has the right to intervene on my life. I only live with my own ethics and morals, and for me every girl is a temple. Something that should be revered and respected.
I can't stand the hipocrisy of those who say themselves pure and honorable and then treat their partners like trash. And by this i don't mean beating them (though i have some girl friends with some kinky fantasies) but also psicologically threaten or abuse them. It's just plain wrong.
Unfortunately though life has put me in a moral crossroad. One of those relationships based on lust, awfully gone wrong, as my partner grew more and more attached to me and I still feel dead cold inside my chest. Almost a year has gone by, and she has become one person i care and hold dear, but to whom i can not give the thing she truly wants for me.
Twice i tried to end our relation in fear it would harm her more, but twice i failed as life circumstances drew us back together. Time keeps going by, and we just grow closer but on the insides i can almost hear a tic-toc of a bomb ready to explode. A bomb that grows whith every passing day, menacing to place me one day in front of someone i'd really love, and shattering the dreams i hopes of someone who has a high esteem of me and which i hold dear.
I pictured myself on the same situation Seth Mortensen goes through volume 5 of the Succubus Blues series. On the same situation Boq endures with the Witch of the East on Wicked. Unable to obtain true love, they end up accepting a faux couple life with someone they care and hold dear, but whom they do not love. This situation is sustainable only with great insatisfaction of her romantic life and a heavy toll of mental stress, until they blow up their unsustainable microcosmos bringing pain to those around.
Now the morals come around. Should you be egoist? Should you pursue your own happiness? even if that means shattering someone else's hopes? Sometimes you even wish something wrong will happen, something that will make that decision for you, but until then... The clock keeps on ticking.