Since two years or so, I went on a journey to intellectually and emotionally penetrate and understand love, as well as sexuality, and its inderdepencies. For all the insight, experience, knowledge and power this has brought forward, it never changed a thing in those moments, when two souls collide, and envelop each other in their most vulnerable, most intense - in a way - most real and most alive states. Never changed a thing. Changed handling, perspective, afterthoughts, interpretation. But not, what it was still about, in the end. In the end, I never got more, than there ever was. Merely more options, more variance, more access, but never more of what it was all about.
Rationalization or disillusionment again and again, for a moment or episode of plight, were able to question romanticism, able to change its frame in my mind. But in the end, nothing could or ever will be able to kill it. For what is, that is, and will always be.