Passion and Desire

I've been thinking about passion a lot. Somehow I have been living the last few months almost as if I hadn't written the book I've written, and my subconscious has felt free to feel and talk all it wanted about whatever it pleased without me directing it in any way -but how could I? Yet the veracity of my words on the book are resounding now as I read other writers and I realise how much passion is a hidden emotion at times, how much passion for another person, even when no one is the object, remains a desire. 

I don't want to be with anyone now, but I feel that my view on passion is shredding its defects and faulty exterior. I don't want to ever find myself in a situation where passion doesn't bloom into ... more passion. Meaning that being with someone when she is bathed on a fantasy of who she is, who I am, is not what I want to ever do again. My own passion would throw me towards getting to know her more and love her as she is not as she wants to be now that we are together. I am happy to yearn for feminine energy around me, albeit there is hardly any, because I feel I recognise what it is I would want in the future without getting sidetracked by need or coincidence. 

Women, femaleness, mine ... is a beautiful gem. You can still feel her around you enveloping you, although she's not here yet.