a letter to my lover

There is something quiet and wild about this; a swelling joy that is both wholly anticipated and wildly exciting. A knowledge that this is something real, that you and I are going to do absolutely wonderful things together.

There is something certain and sure about this; the ease with which you guide my body in motion. That moment when you lay a big hand on me, made especially potent when I sit as your passenger. I like to feed you as you like to drive me.

There is something rewarding and grown-up about this; the occasional friction of you against me. Of working out the kinks, four-and-a-half months in, of paths and ways and means. Of valuing happiness over absolute correctness, and savouring the sweetness of us.

Heart of my heart, blood of my blood. I have never loved a man more, and sometimes I wonder if this is really it. That this might be the whole-haul, longest-term thing. And y'know, sometimes during those sometimes, I think, yeah, that might be kind of nice.

You and me, D. I love you so much.