It's like when you're high up a mountain and see the shadows of clouds passing by, darkness and light, all the intermediates intertwine and give each second a particular feeling that can't be mixed.
I have never felt this before, but I can understand so much more now, and for that I'm thankful. No matter what will happen this will not go away, because it's not just a good taste, you can feel it in your brain, soothing the edges of what we are trying to disguise, pushing in as fantasies.
I just keep wondering how did this happen. Nothing has happened.
"I realised right then that moans are connected with not getting what you want right away, with putting things off [...] moans were best when they caught you by surprise; they came out of this hidden mysterious part of you that was speaking its own language." (The Vagina Monologues)
We are not lying, just trying to tame the storm. If it can be considered a storm at all. Despite our honesty, our openness, our deeply rooted connection, we are still trying to be cool, but not because we are playing games: Because we are fucking scared.
And that is ok.