We are all familiar with lashing out. You stub your toe and bring your fist down on the table in revenge. Anger always wishes a transfer, a reason for action, a display to disprove our victimhood.
Desire is also powerful, but more subtle and persistent. Its demands aren’t always immediate, but linger and refuse to be contained. When we miss someone, we reach out to others close at hand. We embrace more warmly. We treat our dog with open affection.
The subtlety can run even deeper when desire crosses into love, both physical and of the soul. We find ways to praise more safely. We retreat to places of shadow and doubt, pretending we meant only to be kind and appreciative, which are qualities to be treasured. They are treasured and they are reciprocated. But the desire, half expressed, knows its true face.
We adore our false objects, that favorite pillow, the most comforting quilt. They hold our true desires, they have experienced our most sincere embrace. Would Linus still drag his blanket if Sally loved him back?