Guilt
by Jonathan Quince
Sunday, February 20, 2005 11:58:31
Her affections are tied to my heart with bonds so deep, there are yet no words between us. She, my beautiful Lady, does love me true; and for her, my love is sacred and untouchable. She has cared for me in sickness, when few others have given but a damn for me; she has shared with me secret moments, when she and I and I and she were but two souls looking eye to eye in understanding.
Yet for her, I must needs confess, my conscience is hung heavy with guilt.
Guilt is not an ordinary part of my being. Bold am I in following the dictates of my moral sense; honesty with self is a core pillar of my psyche, and violations of my own trust would be inimical to my very existence. When I do right, I know it for right; and when I do wrong, I would rather make good than wallow in self-pity. For me to feel guilty in overwhelming waves leaves me helpless and blind; yet for such honesty, when guilty I am, I cannot escape it.
And so, I speak to her thus:
A thousand times mea culpa, I say to you. Have I, through acquiescence to mere social mores, deprived you of this wondrous pleasure in life? Am I a coward who, knowing better all the while, capitulated quietly and thus left you lacking in some precious moments of beauty? Say it not so, I beg you! Yet say it so, an thus it be; and if the gods permit as I ask them, I will make good to you unto the very best of my substantial ability.
Yes, my fingers away to your cunt, an you ask by that tender swaying of your hips. Yes, my lips above to yours below, if by taste we do agree. Even may I fuck you, if such does progress by the meeting of our eyes and the wordless speech of your body.
Guilt is not good for the soul. Nay, it is abomination! And cure for past ills, recompense for inaction, is far better than mere guilt; for guilt makes not good where good I can make. My precondition is but that the gods must permit; an it be, with your assent, I shall make good by bringing pleasures to this Earthly life of yours.
The past is the past; there rests your suffering for my sin of abeyance, and there, I do ask, may my guilt lie as a scar upon me. For the future, an the gods permit, may this be different between us.