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"There were day when he crept to the edge of the forest and stood and listened to something calling him far and away. And always he returned, restless and uncomfortable, to whimper softly and wistfully at Kiche's side and to lick her face with eager, questioning tongue" J. London, White Fang.
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Men or animals always return there, where they know to be loved.
Maybe if they find another "sure" love, the will stop in returning to the same old "Kiche".
ps: I do not really love Jack London
I thing J. London is the best writer ever born. This peace of him is so intense. Don't you thing? And yes, you are my Kiche!
you are a man and that is the reason why you love London. (ok, to be honest i read his book as teenager, and at that time I prefered love-stories...).
at the moment I am reading a really good written book of an swedish writer: Arne Dahl aka Jan Arnald (who takes part of the comitee which consignes the Nobel's).
I am your Kiche?
You wanna say I am your virtual Kiche.
But sooner or later you will find another Kiche... Don't you? :)