Hated fiercely, loved fiercely

I was talking on the phone to D ... gosh, it was probably a couple of weeks ago ... and she was telling me about the school where she teaches. I've said before that it is a madhouse. The Principal seems to hate her (or fear her), and keeps her on (apparently) only because D is such a damned good teacher. The former Principal once called her opinions "pure evil" in a discussion over educational philosophy. Plainly D arouses strong passions in people -- not just when it's about sex, and not just when she is cleaning up their crap. (See the whole Second Date saga, starting ... oh, let's say about ... here.)

Anyway, she was describing this situation for what seemed like the hundredth time, and then she said something that really caught my attention: "Hosea, I have often felt that I have never been loved as fiercely as I have been hated." Such a simple thing to say, but it really gave me pause.

Right away she added, "Then I think about you, and I think that might not be true after all."

OK, that's flattering to hear. But why me? What makes her think that I love her more fiercely than others have?

As near as I can tell, it's the sex. When we do get time together, I can be shy and retiring on the street but I am intense and demanding in bed, or so I think it must seem to her. D assumes this is the "real Hosea" because it is one of her fundamental beliefs that people reveal their true selves in bed. So if I am passionate and forceful and demanding in bed, she assumes that's the "real Hosea" shining through all the pretense. The ferocity with which I suckle her and fuck her is proof that I -- even, perhaps, I alone -- love her fiercely, ever bit as fiercely as she has ever been hated by her Principal, or by Wife, or by any of the other enemies she has made over the years.

But sometimes I wonder if this belief of hers is really true. How one reveals himself in bed, ... is that truly the "real man"? Yes, I am forceful and passionate in bed with D (far more so than I ever was with Wife). But at work I strive to be mild, inoffensive, reasonable, and accommodating. What makes that personality "less real" than my passion in bed? Of course it is agreeable to be told that one is intense and passionate ... more agreeable than to be told one is a forgettable milquetoast, at any rate. I'd like it to be true. But how does that make it true?

I don't know the answer. On the other hand, I guess it is true that (as D says) I provide some kind of reminder or standing counterexample to her thesis that she has never been loved truly fiercely. That's got to be worth something.