I am more resolute than ever that I could marry a woman and make her happy, that I could please her sexually -- and even enjoy it, myself.
That being said, however, I am more resolute than ever that I could not give my heart completely to her.
My heart is molded for the hands, my hands for the heart of a man.
Tell me I am confused. Tell me I am mislead.
Blaspheme my soul.
It's all white noise muted by a quiet reassurance of who I am and for whom I am intended.
You're not misled Andrew. This is me too, exactly. With me it's not theoretical; I know because I've done it. And still, here I am.
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