June 10, 2015


In the summer of '15, the bond strengthened. She and I grew closer, blending seamlessly into each others secrets and fantasies. A friend I always needed but never cared to reach out for. One I wouldn't judge if she went out with multiple men, one I couldn't stay upset with more than an hour, given my never diminishing ego, one I could have potty and intercourse talks with equal ease, one I could curse and bless alike, one whom I feel connected with. She has changed me in ways she'd never know and my care for her is something I couldn't ever show.

Feeling lucky and blessed are terms overused. I feel unlucky to have met her this late. Almost at the end of an era. She met me at sunset when we both burned during the day alone. We found each other at the bon-voyage moment when we had to sail the ships alone. I stumbled into her and it was time to board the train when we travelled through the city alone. One would argue and ask me to be happy that we met at least, even if at dusk.Yes, she made the goodbyes a little sweeter, but a little harder too. Yes, she made the nights hopeful but skies darker too. Yes, she made the voyage insightful but a bit lonelier too.


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