The only way to have a relationship with the man I want to be with is through conflict. The only time he pays rapt attention to me is when I am splitting with rage or when I manufacture needing an urgent answer to an existential question about us. The war is waged like morse code, needle-bursts of pressure and silence. He renders me dead or alive with the flare of his attention. He is like this with all of us. He is a void and there is no way to fill it.
