Wiki says, contentment can be realistically defined as "enjoyment of whatever may be desired".
I desire contact (dare I say, his) and therefore, it continues to astonish me the power I let others have over me. I'm not nearly as frail, weak, or lost as I was about two years ago. This is no doubt a strength I will continue to grow, just at not nearly the pace I would hope for. But I continue to find myself at the whim of others.
He smiles... I smile.
He cries... I cry.
He worries... I worry.
Just yesterday I let myself be bullied into confusion and hurt. All he had to do was pull away and I felt lost, lonely, and resentful at myself for having let myself feel so deeply. But do I want to feel, love, or lust any less than I do - no!
Each time I open myself to feel... I give myself completely. But men simply cannot handle any degree of this. Do they all just assume we are liars? Do they assume we don't care? Or are they so weak they run because god forbid they risk something, too? This is where one of my favorite principles comes in... compassion!!
But no, instead I whirl myself into a mess and I simply cannot find my head on straight until I have that contact. Someone to lick my wounds. Someone to tell me it wasn't my fault. Someone to tell me I didn't get rejected. Someone to tell me men continue to be the way they always will be... confusing.
Am I the only one that feels this high? ...this rush? ...the flood of desire? Am I the only one to reel out of control until contact is attained? Once it is given... you've found contentment.