I have something he needs

I have something he needs


And I give it to him all the time – unstintingly, freely. He has given me so much, it makes me *want to give him as much as I possibly can..

And in my gratitude? I try to tell him what I have received, what he seems to have (unknowingly?) ‘given’ to me.

He is grateful, in turn, for the information – to know that he is wanted, needed, able to be of use, of service, to help.

For this alone do I love him, if nothing else. (and there is more that I love.)

The thing is – he doesn’t know he *needs* me (or, anybody). Because this conflicts with the carefully constructed belief structure (which *many*, if not most?) men seem to rely on: The idea that he is self-sufficient, and has no needs which he cannot meet all on his lonesome. (yes, I chose that word on purpose.)

But I *need* him to need me, just in the same way *he* needs to be ‘needed’, wanted, useful. To have a *place* in the scheme of things.

And without his conscious *awareness* that he needs me? He’ll let me go without a backward glance, and plow his way forward, alone and lonely, til some other woman sticks her foot in his path and, somehow, successfully? manages to get his attention.

DAMN it.