I love you - but I don't. I don't really know you, after all. I've been on over ten dates with you, I've spent the night twice in your big white bed and pristine house. I know your skin and your hair and your sweet favorite perfume (that's exactly the same as mine); I know your freckles and your nipples and your unbelievably sweet little cunt. I know your eyes that change from hazel to brown and that can't stop looking at me, making me feel uncomfortable now, although I used to love it.

I also know how you taste, your skin, your mouth, your pussy so tight and close to virginal. You lived with that spouse for so many years, the one who didn't like sex, and now you're so closed to sex you don't even know it. I want to open you up, show you how it really can be.

You have one orgasm and you say you have to stop now, and rest. You have never had multiple orgasms, you don't really know what I'm talking about; your pussy is dry on the outside and wet on the inside because you're so closed down and tight, the wetness doesn't come out. Your clothes are never wrinkled or dirty; your hair is never messy. I've seen you without makeup once, in the morning. With a brave face you announced that it was off and I looked. I saw more freckles and that's all.

You're younger than me but your skin tells your age. Your face is so sweet and clear and your lips are a bit thin but very kissable still. When I see you, I want to kiss you and hold you more than I want to make love. And I don't want to love you. I don't want to fall in love. I don't want to fall in love with a woman. I am trying not to resist it but a lifetime of heterosexual training is blocking my feelings.

We are worlds apart culturally; you wanted a doctor, someone rich who could help you with your $100,000 student loans. I wanted an artist or a musician (maybe) or a writer. You listen to jazz and Sade and wear prep attire, I have facial piercings and listen to punk and industrial goth and live in jeans. Eventually, I do want the mental challenge and the cultural lock from being with some one who is like me but not; but not quite yet.

And I wasn't prepared for love to come over me when I wanted to sleep around. I want to meet many women, explore this mesmerizing world now open to me, the world of females and art with my freedom intact. I've only felt this soul connection with two others, two of my most intense and memorable lovers.

If you were male, I have no doubt that I would have fallen in love with you by now. When I am with you I find myself wanting to whisper in your ear, "I love you," sometimes. And sometimes I feel nothing, I am stone cold dead inside. I cannot bring any feelings out even though I know something is happening. It's too heady, too much of a threat to who I thought I was. And I have no control over this process, except for my behavior; how much I talk to you, how much I see you, what I tell you.

Why do I care so much? Would I care less if I was sans children? What if my kids were truly grown and long gone? How can I fall in love with a woman? How can I not? I want you to be different, yet it's your soul that I truly love. The passion I feel for you is hot and I feel affection for you but I want to be detached and separate, not in love with a woman; I don't want to fall for you.

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