I have always been a seeker of feminine energy - a silent, hidden hunger that lived deep inside me. A yearning not just to be near it, but to be consumed by it, involved in it, dissolved into it.

It began long ago, before I even had the language to explain it.

The first time I felt that strange flutter - the butterflies in the stomach - was in school. She was my teacher. Gentle, radiant, with an aura that wrapped around me like a secret I wanted to hold forever. That was the moment the ocean of my fantasies about women began to stir. And it never stopped.

Slowly, unknowingly, I started to crave more: to be seen, to be held, to be sheltered under the warmth of their touch - their softness, their tenderness, and the silent power they carried so effortlessly. I wanted to be under the lap of those emotions, to belong somewhere unconditionally, endlessly.

Without realizing it, as I grew, I wasn't just surviving - I was thriving on love. Living in it, breathing it in the spaces between reality and dreams. I became a dreamer first, then a drifter - floating from one feeling to another, attaching myself deeply to the slightest glimpse of tenderness, of affection, of intimacy.

Soon, I found myself getting attached not just to people but to feelings themselves. Everything intensified - the way I looked at the world, the way emotions bled into my every breath. I built an entire world inside myself, made of dreams no one else could see.

And as I grew older, and the mysteries of women unraveled more and more in front of my eyes, the sensual side of me started to rise like a wild tide. I began to drown willingly in it.

Attraction wasn't just attraction anymore - it was an unquenchable thirst, a force pulling me toward women, again and again. Not for ownership. Not even purely for love.

But for the hunger to be close.

To feel their scent, the curve of their existence, the weight of their warmth pressed against my restless soul.

Many women lived within me - some in my mind, some in my heart.

I lived countless love stories without ever speaking a word.

Some were fleeting, nothing more than a body craving another body. Some stayed longer, leaving behind new ways of seeing the world, making me reborn with every goodbye.

Some women awakened my femininity - the wild, unapologetic power to feel deeply, to dance freely with my soul.

Some summoned my masculinity - teaching me to take charge, to lead, to protect what matters.

Each encounter - real or imagined - changed me. Each one whispered a different kind of power into my being.

And then... when I thought I'd drown forever in this endless cycle of dreaming, drifting, craving -

you came.

A question rises quietly inside me even today:

Where did you come from?

When I had least expected it,

When I was lost in a thousand made-up stories,

You came - not as a dream,

But as an anchor.

A turning point.

The base for my ever-wandering soul.

A reason to exist outside the walls of my fantasy world.

You didn't just bring me back.

You made me want to come back.