I've only been to my house a little while, and it already seems unbearable to me. The house ought to be the refuge of what makes me anxious. Nevertheless, it looks just as cold and empty.

It's not the spaces, the houses, and the different places. It's our fault because we don't feel good inside of ourselves.

I look at the kitchen with apathy. I don't feel like eating anything. I've lost my appetite, and that's not good.

To be able to eat, I have to feel Dorian loves me. When I do my hair and stare in the mirror at how beautiful it is, I want Dorian to like it first. When I put on an outfit, and it looks elegant on my body, I want Dorian to admire it first. When I walk down the street, and other men flirt with me, I want Dorian to be hidden somewhere and see that.

Whatever good happens in my life, I want Dorian to know it and admire me for it, not because I have arrogance, but because he's top of my soul list.

You lose your strength, you lose interest in life! My mind cries out, and I know it is so.

I avoid making scenes for him just so we don't fight. The last thing I want is to lose him. Dorian will not hesitate to dismiss me without a second thought, as any man would.

But that's how it is? That's how it should be?

How pathetic can that be when it happens inside a soul?

How many battles will the heart endure to give against the logic of the mind?

I sigh. I lie more comfortably on the couch, and I remember the moments when we made love, and automatically something flutters between my chest. It's my sweet feeling for him; my precious.

I bite my lower lip nervously and hold in my memory only Dorian's eyes. Sleep takes me with difficulty, but I manage to close my eyes and rest.

                                                      
                              ***

Fuck. I only slept for three hours, and my head is about to crack. My fucking disposition is shit.

I'm taking a bath and getting dressed real quick. I have to be at the casino early today. The month is closing, and I must be at the Counting House. I'm gonna fill that fucking room again with a sack of money.

So what?

By comparison, it is better that way than if I were poor. If I didn't have money, I wouldn't be able to fuck so easily. The chicks want money. This has been known for years.

But not Reva.

Yeah, fucking voice, yeah, not Reva. I know. I made her swim in the sea of my wealth and instead of taking the treasure, she did the shit and got me out of there.

You are her treasure, the voice says again, and I understand it's gonna blow my balls today.

If she had been another woman in Reva's place, she would have taken diamonds and money. She may not have taken enough, but certainly some very expensive jewelry.

Reva, as soon as she got in there, felt straight out that she didn't belong in it. I observed her as she passed in front of my riches, and left them behind with great pleasure, I would say. She felt stranger in there and unaffected by the glory. I'd say she felt the opposite. Her mood dropped instantly.

I'm sure it's hard these days to find a chick like that to be on the level. It's definitely worth getting to know that fucking love with her.

But... no. No. I'm better that way. I will do whatever I want with the chicks, not what they want.

I keep Reva because it reminds me of what it's like in the fucking, stupid world of lovers. I'll keep her in my life, I've made my decision. But it'll only be my way. That's an inviolable condition.

I reached the casino, and the thoughts automatically stopped in my fucking brain. I order a coffee, and I shut myself in my office. I grab my cell phone and write a message to Reva.

*Good morning.*

In less than ten minutes I get her message.

Seeing Dorian's message, I should have flown for joy and felt that flutter in my chest. I'm glad to see his message, but at the same time, I'm troubled because I don't know if he felt the need to send me a message.

He seems very much in love with me. I can see that. He keeps me in his life, and I'm sure whatever I ask of him will be there for me. But some of his reactions kill every start I make to bond even more with him.

How much more bonding? You're already too close to him. My mind is sneering at me, and it's right.

*Good morning, Dorian.*

I'm sending him something similar until I see where all this texting goes. Either he stops here, or he's got something on his mind that he wants to say.

*Dorian: What does your little pussy do?*

I blush when I read his message and giggle like an idiot. I'm used to his dirty jokes.

*Reva: It's well.*

*Dorian: How well?*

*Reva: As good as it can be when its 'guest' is away. ;)*

*Dorian: Oh, is that so? Well, that's easily solved. Have it ready 'cause it'll be full again soon.*

*Reva: I had no doubt. :) *

I put the cell phone aside and continue my work in the office. Thoughts about Dorian don't cease to make their appearance during the day. I can't wait to finish so I can go over to the casino to see him.