frankly

Anais Nin:

"We had the same fears of displeasing each other, or disappointing each other. She had gone to the caf in the evening to meet Henry. 'I felt as if drugged. I was full of thoughts of you. People's voices reached me from afar. I was elated. I could not sleep all night. What have you done to me?'
She sat beside me in the restaurant, small, timid, unworldly, panic-stricken... June different, upset, changed, yielding...
She would say something and then beg forgiveness for its stupidity. I could not bear her humility. I told her, 'We have both lost ourselves, but that is when one reveals most of one's true self. You've revealed your incredible sensitiveness....You are like me, wishing for perfect moments, and frightened for fear of spoiling them. Neither one of us was prepared for this, and we had imagined it too long.'
To me she gave the secret of her being, the woman whose face and body have aroused instincts around her which left her untouched, which terrified her. As i had sensed, her destructiveness is unconscious. She is imprisoned in it, and detached, and bewildered. She lives in fantasies.