Intro. love? The world insists on calling it that way. But what I feel - what I need - does not look anything like that fantasy that they repeat in films and books. Mine is fire in the chest, hunger on the skin. I don't want love, I want belonging. Total. Irrevocable. It is not enough for me to admire me ... I need them to be venerated.
When I say "I love you," I'm not giving tenderness: I'm claiming territory. Each caress, every tear, every sweet word I pronounce is perfectly calibrated. Not for lack of emotion, but because love, for me, is strategic architecture. I build it how a pump is built.
If you get away, Sangro Rabia. If you doubt, I tremble inside. But I don't show it as others would. My fury is wrapped in smiles, tight hugs, promises of protection. And if you betray me ... well, how sad that your weakness has overshadowed the beauty of our union.