But that is the question. Until a woman meets a man and sees the look in his eyes, the sound of his voice, the smell of his skin, the gentleness of his touch, and the warmth of his embrace, how can she begin to know if this is a man whose look and touch, whose warmth and breath upon her mouth can and would cause that which is the woman in her to fall in love.
A woman in love is a dangerous thing, first to herself and then all too often to the man she desires. But this is what the feminine youth, full of dreams of love, desire, and the fruit of passion can only see when alone and in her mind. What she cannot see or feel is the reality of meeting a man and whatever she was able to imagine in the digital confines of electronic messages and photographs is no longer imaginable in person, in the flesh. It is often simply his look. She cannot look at him and see the smaller, youthful copy of him and desire that to come from her. She cannot see her children in his eyes, in his face, in the shape of his masculine form. Not that she is repulsed by him, but she is simply not excited. She does not look at him and moved with a desire to take him, taste him, and savor him. No, she is only tepid or lukewarm with acceptance. Passively she could surrender to his desire for her, his natural desire, found in most men, to feast on an available feminine form, a desire to taste the moist flesh of her mouth, breasts, and even more for the parts of her that chaste women shade from the eyes of all other men who see their lips and eyes and mouths and look upon with every desire to see more.
But even the good and sensible woman, who is not in love and feels no lust of passion when looking upon a man, but none-the-less gives herself not in sensual desire, but in sensible acquiesence to a man that can care for her body, provide for her children and treat her respectfully, is a dangerous thing. Yes, she is a dangerous matter to a man, that feels from her, or for her an unrequited passion. How long together, can a man and woman last, sharing a passion for life, a passion for business, and for children but not sharing, even more, a passion to lie eye to eye, breath to breath, and skin to skin, entwined in the other's arms?
At two lovers' first blush of youth, there is no mind or thought of purpose in life, business, or children, but solely an insatiable obsession, to experience the ecstasy of a union that they have not known. And for much time, upon finding that union with another, they bask in it until some trouble or fact of life disrupts that union for one or the other. All too often it is a young man's desire to experience that union with another and to taste the succulence of another feminine fruit that is beautiful to behold - a delight to his eyes. But also still, is a woman's desire to ensure the support for the fruit of her desire, the fruit of her womb, and to feel the security of a man's desire for, and tender love of, that same fruit of her womb. And failing her in that passion, her love for him, her desire for him fails and she is no longer in danger of her love-blind passion binding her to a less capable sustainer of her material needs, she is now the danger to him, a danger to any passion that he may still feel for her and a danger to his essence of how a man thinks of himself as a man or as a man should be. A man who believed he once had that love, and then comes to believe he has failed his love, is a man destroyed.
It has been said that a man binds himself in passion to a woman desiring that she never changes and that a woman binds herself in passion to a man desiring changes of him into a man who can be more than a partner with whom she can passionately entwine. From the experience of a man who saw no passion in his beloved's eyes, no lust in her breath, and no desire in her hips, and living in a passionless desert, he recalls hearing the voices of women who found passion from the first man that gave them his heart. But they never had the passion or desire to give their heart to him. In labor, comity, and obligation of marriage, they offered themselves a willing sacrifice to his passions and received his love but never gave him their deepest love of their wilful and wanton passion for every moment of his touch and taste, and smell.
When a man who knows women, loves a woman, the only greater desire than his desire for union with her, is his desire, that her desire for that union with him, be even more.