The gift of lust
I close my eyes and make a wish. This year I wish not for love, not for safety and not for warmth, but for lust, devouring passion, wild driving desire. Nothing pushes me, I live through routine, mechanically, coping well, and with no craving for more.
But I need more. I need fear and hurt and pain to chase me into weeks of frantic activity, accomplishment and satisfaction. I need something to pull me up this long uphill slope I live on. I need lust, lust in the new year.
May you all be blessed with it, and never fully sated.