I prefer your insanity to your sanity, your pain to your pleasure, your hatred to your love.
Your lunacy is attractive and your screams of agony titillate me to drive you further, push you harder, make you really feel what it might be like to be so close to death but not close enough to be free…
You do realize that this all means that I love you, right? No one else drives me to such lengths as you – drives me to the edge of madness only to pull me back at the last possible second. I adore you: my heart adores you, my soul adores you, my very body craves you.
I find you to be the most delightful, most enchanting creature this side of the world.
Making you cry amuses me. Making you beg arouses me. Making you love me… well, that's the best of it all, isn't it? I make you love me and it is such a heady pleasure to watch you on your knees, crystals tears glistening on your cheeks, bruises marring your formerly perfect skin, and listen to you say over and over again at my order: I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I would listen to you say it days on end, but such a thing as life intrudes upon that impossible wish. My life is important and yours, though less so, also has its duties.
Regardless, I love to hear you say the words I tell you to say until your voice catches and you fall limp to the ground…
I have a video camera for next time – just so I can watch you say: I love you without end at my wish; even when you're gone, I shall always have you.
Because I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you enough to make you love me too.