He said he'd marry me. As a female creature, born with a natural desire of love, family and procreation, that was something I couldn't deny. But, unfortunately, there was an "if". And this "if", I must say, was a bit ahead of my comprehension of love.
He was a free soul. Better: he made himself a free man, so he thought he was, by consequence, a free soul. Love, in his conception, should be free: possessivity and jealousy were not in his dictionary. "They're bad feelings", he said to me one time. And two times. Or more than three times, I think. "I do not want to private you or me from knowing other people" - and as he said that, my heart felt tight in a way that my mind had to send me more and more oxigen. In this way, it made possible my reflection on what he was trying to say.
I spent some days, weeks and months thinking about his uncommon perspective. And I knew he was right: he was a futurist. "Come on, we're on the second decade of the 21th century", he told me. And yes, he was right. He knew he was right.
Now, that was up to me. I should abstract my own concept of love to be able of sharing him with other people. I should be able of doing threesomes and, most of all, I should make myself able of being with and having feelings for other people, even if I was in love with him. Even if I was his wife.
And that was all I wanted to be.
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