He would find me at my worst, without faith or hope, laying on the ground and filthy. And he would pick me up and swoop me away and see past all the garbage I have done to myself and know that I had only done it to come out the other side, to purify myself and strip everything that I had known and believed in and was away. I am no saint, I indulge in vice, I sin, and will break and be broken- but there will always be something left, still something would always persist, and he would see that I had been innocent all along, see the thing that made me human- my weaknesses, my desires, my freedom, my rationality and irrationality, my flesh, my bile, my blood, my urine. And he would take me home and give me a bath and wipe all these disgusting things I had done to myself away. He would know me as this horrible and ugly beast first and love me still, through all of it, and we would work our way up, and I would not feel as though I had tricked him, that the only thing one will find by knowing me is disappointment, because he will have already known all my dirty secrets.

He would read to me before I slept and wake me up in the middle of the night to kiss.

He would challenge me and allow himself to be challenged by me. We would run off and be reckless together. He would let me pull him into allies and elevators to kiss him and touch him.

And when he would fuck me, he would be brutal, would take everything away from me, and I from him, like savages, like we would die without it, while simultaneously holding my hand and kissing my forehead, my eyelids, my nose, and I would know the poles of violence and tenderness in the same moment.

He would be this dark, strange man, and to be in love with him would be like to be on drugs, and seeing one's own reflection and drowning in the obsession of it. He would be tall and pale and have long fingers, and I would adore him.

Most importantly, he would see me humiliated first. He would prove me wrong about everything. The only reason I grasp so firmly to my beliefs is because they have not met opposition, and I crave that. I know all the possible responses one could argue, and I know my answers. I am so bored by rehearsing it and not meeting any challenging view that I can't respond to, that I've never heard before.

And more importantly than even this is my use of gender- which I find to be an illusion. I use "he" only out of convenience.

These are only musings, I have only my daydreams...