I became your recipient. When I think about it, it's almost fearful.
So great is my love for you!
Everything, everything, came from you to me, even your passion! Your soul slid into mine. I cannot fly from you.
Did I want it? Did I?
I lay with feet bound together under you and I am happy. Happy!
The harder I struggle the happier I am. I sink to a bottom which is not a bottom, where you lay like a giant crab ready to catch hold of me with your claws--and I just lay there. Happy!
Isn't this frightful?
So great is my love for you!
Sometimes, when I try to explain my reasons you react like a wounded animal, and spiteful you are because you are wounded. And it seems to me that you are always right. And never wrong.
Possibly, all in all, at this moment I am really the weaker and you are the stronger. You get nothing from me, but you gave me much.
And why do you keep silent when you are angry with me? I feel you are stronger, but, perhaps, it's because you have nothing to say and because I disappointed you. And you feel it. You feel that you are stronger than me.
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