That Thing That is Us

Finding a word to describe what you do to me is proving as complicated as finding a cure for the common cold.

I passion3don’t even think you’re aware of it. It’s all subconscious and semi-unintentional. Or possibly even just an integral part of who you are, and therefore a no-less-integral part of this unique involvement that we have.

It’s not even limited to the fabulous sexual chemistry, or the incredible platonic connection. The passion and compassion that flows between us is astonishing to witness, but near sublime to experience.

We share so many of the same traits and foibles, with similar weirdiosities and quirks, that it’s hard to imagine that we weren’t separated at birth. (Although given the six year age gap, that would be quite a tall order.)

It’s how I feel when I’m with you — virtually or physically.

It’s how you turn to me to profess your exasperation with the world, and your need for a break.

It’s that you can talk to me, or I to you, and release the pent-up frustration because we understand each other so well.

It’s how you can lay your head on me, breathe and just be. And how, when you do that, I feel so much at peace.

Thank you for that. For everything.



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