In my early twenties I was desired. I still am I suppose. I loved that I was desired, it made me feel beautiful and boosted my self-confidence. Now that I’m older, I don’t want to be desired; I would rather be loved. Being loved by someone, especially if the feeling is mutual, is a beautiful thing in and of itself. It’s fulfilling, it’s joyous. Now, just being desired, it feels so shallow, like these people who are limiting themselves to just desire, are missing out on so much more. Desire, on its own, just feels so empty and sad and unfulfilling.
Now, I would love to be loved. For someone to see all of me and love every piece.