Her ambivalence is rampant. Mine, vanquished. Most crudely, I collected her willingness, her compliance, her orgasms, even if only for a night. The prize was won.
This isn’t usually how I conceptualize my desire, my encounters, my relationships. I genuinely don’t prize notches on my belt. Rather, I prize connection, and, usually, sustained connection.
But in this case, I am recalibrated. I needed to have her, for one night. I needed to triumph over her ambivalence, to collect what she had, what I wanted. And I did.
Surprisingly (to me), that was (is) enough. I don’t need more.
Don’t get me wrong: I want more. But I don’t need it. I’m not made crazy by the idea I might not get it, obsessed by the need to triumph once again.
Ironically, inevitably, this almost definitely means I’ll get it.