kaffeine

(cross-posted to death)

I am a pervert. I get off on things that make other people uncomfortable; I get excited over minutiae which most people would gladly sweep under the rug. I only like to have sex with people who are willing to humour my weird fantasies. My perversion, my kink, is intimacy.

I desire secrets, thoughts, fears, ideas, wild aspirations. I crave tiny moments of awkwardness and the giggles which ensue when two people realize how foolish they feel, and how foolish it is to feel foolish. I want to know the dark things, things that make other people cry and feel tiny. I want to see them curl up fetally and whimper, so I can pat their hair and make it better. And I'll do a lot to get that, even cruelty. I told you, I'm a pervert.

Anyone who's kept up with this journal over time (or even scanned the last few entries) will know that I am passionate and emotionally vulnerable by nature. I'm ok with that. But sometimes I want to bring others over to my level, especially those who would vie for my physical affections. Basically, if you want to see me naked, you have to be willing to get naked for me. I told you already; I'm a pervert.

This is why I have no partner, why I am not married, why I have never managed to keep a close friend or lover for more than a few years. Steve was an exception, but even he couldn't take it anymore. I pour out myself when I invest in you, and I expect the same. I've terrified people with my prying, and for that, I apologize. But I've also endeared myself to some, who know just how strong I've become over the years. (Wearing your heart on your sleeve is a good way to toughen it up. Once it has a defense against all the superficial bullshit of the world, the fleshy insides become all the warmer and cozier for those you let in.)

I've made plenty of people cry, especially those I cared for the most. Even when I am not consciously seeking out intimacy, my nature drives me to provoke absolute honesty from those around me, even if it means receiving some cruelty in return. If you are my friend, I expect sincerity. It's the only thing I ask; I've had friends who were into all sorts of freaky shit, and it never bothered me. It's when they aren't completely real with me that I pass any sort of judgment. Open up, and I'll give you the world, my heart.

I hope this isn't too intense for you; I've been told as much before, and I can deal with that. But you can stay if you want - I'm a pervert, but I won't hurt you. You have to trust me.