Consent in romance

Consent is part of that honesty in relationship, is it not? And honesty is so superficially understood! But we've build a concept, a defensive wall out of consent now. We've turned it into a guard, and we forget how complex, or simple it could be.

Consent is to listen, to respect the other person even in the heat of one's own passion; an understanding of a sort, no? When love is, this happens more or less easily. But we've made consent into a discourse, a big fuss. This way it stinks.
 
It seems to me that human sexuality in urban times and spaces is getting duller on one hand, and more violent on the other. The damages in relationship are getting quicker, uglier and more irreparable, just like the numerous consumer products we use.
Disconnect from nature, from its vast expanses, from its challenges certainly makes us excessively intellect-driven. And intellect alone can't help. 
We don't understand what to do with our own animality, how to relate to ourselves, to everything just as it is. This is inner wreckage. This needs a deep looking-after, a healing, if it is to be whole again, if it is to truly come to life again.