I've known him for 10 years. Around him I feel safe and comfortable. He's cozy.
We can talk or not talk. I like that.
Like everybody else, I adore him. I hate being so obvious, but I can't help it.
I would trust my soul to him. Really really.
People interest him. And music, and words.
He reads – a major turn-on. He plays the guitar. He laughs a lot. And hugs people.
He has beautiful hands.
To me, he's one of the few. He's one of my few.
We can talk or not talk. I like that.
Like everybody else, I adore him. I hate being so obvious, but I can't help it.
I would trust my soul to him. Really really.
People interest him. And music, and words.
He reads – a major turn-on. He plays the guitar. He laughs a lot. And hugs people.
He has beautiful hands.
To me, he's one of the few. He's one of my few.
He's the third person ever to be allowed/invited to read this blog, myself included. Feels kinda scary. And don't ask me why I have a blog, then. Anyway.
Happy belated birthday, dear friend.
