Do you find what your heart craves in the body of the other?

This question, which a friend put me, reflects the very essence of the research in my books.
The question is just and at the same time terrible and cruel.
What I find in the otherness of another body? What do I look for in this otherness?
I look for myself. I look for the desperate need to assert our own RIGHT to exist in this Universe.
I think there is no better sentence that can explain it than the Spinoza's merciless sentence; unquaque res in suo esse perseverare conatur.
We are nothing indeed, except for Will to exist, in the Schopenhauer's sense.