Let us pretend that I was complimented on being an extraordinary lover (I am an extraordinary lover, but unfortunately for the world’s population I am the only one that is allowed to appreciate my magnificence). If we take this to be true, then it would be a great shame. This would mean that my abilities as a lover are far beyond those of the average man or woman or child. Most people will never be able to achieve what is natural to me. Too many people go through life without giving such wonder and joy, and too few ever receive it. Life truly is tragic.

It could be argued that it is indeed unfortunate that this hypothetical lover of mine went so long without encountering an individual with such awesome prowess as mine, and they may never do so again as long as they live, but they did at least experience every inch of my love. They will know that, as they return to the mundane, there is much more.

This returns us to the idea that bliss is ignorance. Such an experience changes a person for ever. How could someone go on after this has happened? They’ve got to, I suppose, constantly searching for a lover that can be alll of what a lover can be.

I say this is hypothetical just because I don’t want to cause embarrassment or shame to anyone reading this as I am so really really amazing at sex.