Not only do I do so, but I hear such.

.

.

Whispers.  Of another.  Wrestling with our love?  I'd like to think so.

If too, I feel... a bit guilty for it.  I do my best, which is... good and bad.

It has to be both.  Creates a trap, if she takes the material and tries to build the nest?  I think so.  It's... an odd thing, this thing called love.  Sometimes it seems like just sex, for one, or the other, but never both, at once.  I am sure it isn't sex, those don't last.  If I also know, if sex stops, the relationship dies.  Odd.  I suppose, unless there are other reasons to remain?

Hard on her?  In return, mind you.  And... for a greater cause.

When I realized the relationship isn't about me, or her, or even just us... the two of us combined?  It's, really, like life... and death... a God thing.  If it's not for Him, it isn't for anybody.  Or, really, it includes all those things, as well as social, cultural, legal, and other entities.  But if God isn't first, the rest will fail.

Fortunately, or not, we are in a place when even women are cavalier.

I have been told I resemble that remark.  Such a strange whisperer.

Do I know her name?  Does she... know mine?