Tidal Waves: Necessary Fictions

I'm currently reading Michelle Citron's Home Movies and Other Necessary Fictions. It has moved me in ways that no book, fiction or not, has done in a long time. I picked it up for a film theory class, but little did I know that I would be unpacking so much of my personal anxieties as I go through Citron's.

In response, this necessary fiction(s):

She is like the currents. Fierce, unyielding, overwhelming. I struggle to overcome her strength, I want to prove to her I am not without my own, but I fail. I endlessly fail. And into her depths I surrender. As soft as I imagine, there are no edges or borders here. Only depth, and you I can only drown deeper. I let go willingly. I want to be forcefully detached and realigned. I long to drift, I want to be lost inside her. She knows. But pretends otherwise. Faults me for my haughtiness. I tell her, you remind me of Arab men, knowing rather well it will offend her. She and I know, that can be the worst of insults. I want her to lash out, to put me where I can no longer swim against the current.  I find her anger soothing, her frustration illogical.

It is not necessary that we fight, it is essential.