Sometimes I feel him coming before he arrives. But always I am breathless and surprised when he arrives.
We are not lovers but we are intimates. He is faithful. No matter how long we are apart, he always returns to me.
He knows me well (finally I notice that he knows me much better than I know him...) He is sensitive, consistently perceiving where I am vulnerable and focusing his dark gaze there, touching me there.
He is bigger than me. I have never heard his voice. The sounds of him are deep breathing and heavy footsteps and the hushed rustle of his clothing when he listens at the door.
He shows me no mercy. He is true to his nature. He takes whatever he wants from me. I am his submissive. He puts me in my place. He takes my breath away.
He's like an angel -- he is not afraid of me and he looks me right in the eye.
I fear him but I do not resist him. I don't love him.
He is brutal. Each time we meet, he wounds me--in the eyes, the heart, the hands. No man-made restraining order can hold him. He does what he likes.
Here is the strange thing: his abuse feels sometimes like love to me. I am freer, lighter after each encounter. He takes my innocence. I am less afraid of the World because of him.
He is here now and I don't know how long he will stay. This is a long visit. I hurt but the process has been slower this time. It's as though he seeks Recognition, wants me to know him. Between blows, my cells reverberate with echos of the deep, beautiful, mourning within him.
It almost feels like Love.