Thus speaks the man in love: autárkeia, self-sufficiency, the philosopher’s ideal, has exited stage left, along with my libran keel. Take my free will, for I wish to be your predestined fool. Slavery to you, my dear, shall henceforth for me be the rule. I cannot feign nonchalance, or Castiglione cool.
Let truth be told: a knowing look from your gentle eyes, and I am intoxicated with the strength of Samson. But a trivial slight from those very same green tyrants, shears me of my former boldness, and puts my stomach in knots.
Oh Epictetus, wipe that disapproving look off your face! Stern Stoic, surrender to Aphrodite, and join the human race. You thought the poets hedonists and simpletons. But they saw something, something you and Buddha missed: a losing game it is, fleeing from fear and desire, for if you win, what have you won?
—John Faithful Hamer, The Myth of the Fuckbuddy (2017)