• Need Your Love, So Bad

Over time, I got some more summary. I noticed that I could discern the women, who were longing for love, /well, who don’t?/ for understanding, faster.  In fact those women were only frustrated by men, in no way gay, only starving for some tenderness, and open to get it, even from me. But they accepted only the masculin side in me, they were attracted by my androgynous being and got interested in. Because of my active desiring I was pressured in a role which I adopted intentional involuntary. That supported also my inhibitions, so I never could  break the cycle. It was a tiring game, a long process, during those women discovered their own sexuality, they struggled with themselves for the most part. They acted out their femininity, they played with the fire, and with me. It was allowed, I did desire and captured them. I was seduced to love, but the love I gave, was rarely returned. My longing for women was only one-sided satisfied, I got them. Although I yearned for affection as well, I didn’t know the feeling, being desired. I was that petrified in the requested dominance, that I hardly was able, if I ever felt, to let in the love of somebody. Seemingly I had the position of power, but no, I had not, since I just could give my love, if they were ready for getting it, depending on their delight and whim. I never had time to think about, if I wanted to do it at all, I just grabbed my chance on time. By their passivity I got  permanently humiliated, and I was too proud, to beg for their love. I never was body oriented, if it was about my body. I just have an existing head (maybe that's why I think too much) and an existing heart (maybe that's why I feel too much). It is also a more esthetical principle that I like the body of women. I was drawing female nude portraits at the school, since I was fourteen. Seeing a nude woman meant to me nothing else, as to see a body, composed of muscles and bones, of light and shadow. This body could get converted into an object of the desire only by the charisma of a character. I am called gay, because I was born with a female gender. But no, I never felt myself, like a man. I never had this penis envy. I also never wanted to raise a family, or to bear a child either. I am not a man, and I am not a woman. I am both, and no one of it. I am the ID, the third gender, the bodiless thinking and feeling individual. /Are you happy Mr. Freud?/