P.S.
This one — and the next — were written before the third.
The third completely changes the perspective.
But I have to lead you gently,
to soften the mind’s resistance
and the aggression that sometimes comes up.
This is powerful.
But there is no other way.
Three texts — and all of them break the paradigm.

Text One
Alpha came home from work.
From meetings.
From sessions.
From endless problem-solving.
Alpha came home.
He doesn’t want to fight.
No — Alpha is no longer a lion.
He is tired. Exhausted.
He reaches for his woman.
She is tired too.
She is angry too.
And she also longs for tenderness.
He makes the first move.
Because he is a man.
And because he loves her.
Alpha stands there — strong.
But he doesn’t want to beg her
to touch him.
He doesn’t want sex.
He doesn’t want passion.
He just needs her hands.
Soft and slender.
Gentle and caring.
She won’t refuse.
She looks at him.
He is ready to cry —
but he won’t.
He needs a woman.
He depends on her.
He silently begs her
to hold him.
To press him close.
She puts everything aside
and embraces him.
She doesn’t know what’s happening to him.
She doesn’t understand why he is changing.
She is afraid to believe him.
She is afraid to exhale.
She almost doesn’t breathe
while holding him.
Her gentle fingers touch his neck
and slowly slide into his hair.
He tilts his head back.
He dies quietly, praying.
How he missed these touches.
How he missed this tenderness.
He loves her very much.
He simply works.
And he must.
He must.
He must be a man.
He knows he should take better care of her.
But every task pulls another one behind it.
And he rests his head on her shoulder.
He brushes her nose with his.
And
his beloved woman laughs.
Back then,
when it was all just beginning,
he was braver.
Gentler.
Softer.
The woman is crying.
She loves him so much.
But the alpha is guilty.
He let her down.
She married him believing
they wouldn’t end up like everyone else.
That he would always stay
the same boy she married.
They laughed at old people.
Their everyday life would never swallow them.
No.
Not them.
But the alpha did what had to be done.
He carried them.
He gave them everything.
He is a man.
And he carries everything.
But in return,
he gave up everything else.
To become the man she deserved,
he gave up the rest.
His soul.
His time.
His years.
His lightness.
His spark.
His reckless joy.
He gave it all away
so none of it would get in the way.
He tried,
but it didn’t work.
And he had to accept the rules of the game:
more work,
less family,
even more work,
and even less time for her.
Slowly, he began to realize
that maybe it could have been different.
But back then,
he didn’t know how.
He did what he could.
He tried.
The woman is crying.
She’s crying for her man.
Crying because he’s so rarely with her
and so often somewhere else.
He’s here —
but he’s not present.
But not today.
Today he will hold her
the way he used to.
He stays.
No.
Today, he’s with her.
He takes off his jacket.
His tie.
His shirt.
To hell with all of it.
He is unbearably, terribly tired.
She smiles
and gently kisses his shoulder.
He exhales with a sound.
Not from desire —
from release.
The armor is off — for now.
His woman is near.
And with her, it’s safe.
She strokes his back.
His arms.
His chest.
And his abs.
She touches him
with cat-like paws —
soft and warm.
He allows himself to feel it.
He loves her like this —
tender, domestic, close.
He gathers himself
and takes her face in his hands.
He looks at his woman.
She’s beautiful.
He knows that.
But this time,
he really looks.
And the woman starts to cry —
from how long it’s been
since he was like this.
From how much she missed
his warm hands,
his protection,
his strength.
She kisses him —
softly, almost modestly.
And he pulls her close,
promising protection,
promising safety.
The woman’s body relaxes.
The alpha gathers himself.
He is responsible for this woman.
He loves her.
He’s trying.
He is really trying
to fix old mistakes.
He’s working on it.
He will make it right.
For her.
For the children.
And finally —
for himself.