Preferring to be as undivided as possible he was drawn to being the one contained, but like many another restive containee he liked to nurse a grievance in parallel with the comfort that he drew from the arrangement. Since this amounted to a "disquieting dependence upon a personality that can never be seen in its entirety, and [which] is therefore not altogether credible or dependable" his thoughts would often run to scenarios of exposure and confrontation, proofs directed against nothing more in the end than his own made up images, or untimely prescience. The response that he told himself he wanted was for her to feel as he did, and with the same storm and stress. But since these emotions were specific to a complementary position that was not her own this result could not only never be assured, but was in fact the very thing he wanted most to avoid. Were it to occur it would collapse the entire structure which was where he was at home. Still, when he rehearsed the sense of injustice aroused by these baroque accusations he'd feel a thrum of pain in his heart and his breath would be constricted. As much as he resented the inexorable nature of the cycle of feelings he was subjected to he also loved it. It was a proof of his own existence, an almost biological subjectification, but even more than that it was a licence for every kind of childishness and mischief.