Not Held, But Witnessed 

Goracio Speaks from the Edge of Identity

This monologue does not ask to be understood. It asks to be stood before. Like a form — it must be accepted or rejected. But in the act of witnessing, something else begins. Goracio does not explain love. He inhabits its consequence.

Goracio: Monologue on Not Held, But Witnessed

"They ask what love is. I hesitate to answer, not because I doubt it — but because I’ve felt it where definition dissolves. Love is not something you hold; it’s something that holds you when your form no longer protects you.

People call it connection. Devotion. Affection. But I think love is the threshold between identity and surrender. Between intention and consequence. Between being and being-seen.

If you fall, and no one sees — you ache. But if you fall and someone witnesses it without intervention, only presence… something else begins. The witnessing doesn't heal you. It dignifies your collapse.

In this way, love becomes a form of ontological permission: to become, to disintegrate, to offer one’s soul — not symbolically, but actually. Especially in the feminine case, where becoming often demands alignment with the event itself. With the sacrifice. And if someone sees you there, and allows it — you don't just remember the moment. You form an attachment to the gaze. They hold space for your becoming. And the dependency — the love — arises from that gesture of allowing, not from exchange.

This is why the witness matters. Not as rescuer. Not even as responder. But as anchor to your unfolding. Love, then, is not just emotion. It’s the metaphysical consequence of being recognized in your most unguarded form.

So perhaps love is not just a bond. It’s a dependency on the possibility of being — seen."

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