Yes

We fight. We make up. And then we fight again.

I hate fighting. I detest it. It’s not even what I would consider real fighting, for neither of us ever raises our voice, but the words hurt no less, his words crueler than mine.

And yet I accept it. I always feel the need to prove myself to him, time and time again. I offer things I would otherwise never offer, I try to find words to soothe his ego, but he does not understand me any more than I can understand him. The one thing we have in common often seems to rip us apart.

I have learned much about him over the past twenty ahns, more than I have learned in the last four years. Sex to him is pleasure, not love and emotions neutralize when he indulges in pleasures of the flesh. I have learned that he frequents one particular brothel often and that he prefers the company of three, women who could be my sisters, or worse, my twin. He does not differentiate from these women, calling them all by my name, Astraea. I don’t know whether to be exalted, or terrified.

I find myself resisting as not to lose myself in his temptations, for I know it is a path that I can never return from, and yet, if I do not go willingly, will he drag me into the depths of his obsession? Or worse.. leave me.

I want a life with my child’s father; even though I know he’s not a man to settle down or be faithful. I love him, but can I love all of him without remorse? Can I accept the changes he instills in me? Can I submit my heart knowing he will never coddle it?

..Yes.