Naughty at the Office

 Just a few items that I enjoy when thinking about being in an office . . . 

Michelle’s spring internship was coming to a close. She had been the clear favorite in her intern class, her brilliance upstaging all the others. Of course, it didn’t hurt that she was stunningly attractive. 5’10”, a former college athlete, a runner, and a woman with a penchant for the absolutely perfect heels.

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They walked two blocks from the office to a five-story brick building. One of the older buildings in a fairly young town.

She didn't remember any restaurants in this building, but she followed, excited about what she might discovered.

During the interview, she'd wondered if she could arouse him. Could make him respond to her. He seemed very serious and very focused.

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During the interview, he noticed the deep, dark brown of her hair. How well it blended with her olive-tan skin. The depth of darkness in her eyes. He found her instantly attractive, even more than her picture had revealed. He'd become accustomed to meeting women who'd sent him pictures only to be disappointed. This case was exactly the opposite. She was at once more beautiful, more engaging than he'd hoped.

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Stay tuned for more office fun! :)

A Few of My Favorite Things

 Some interesting stories designed to get the blood circulating!

She wore ankle strap heels . . . 

An offer accepted . . . 

As soon as the door clicked . . . 

The Simulation

The closest thing I can think of that describes this feeling is the feeling you get in that very first moment when you hold your child. Of course, if you've never had a child, you can't feel this. You don't know this feeling.

That's something that can't be simulated. Or, well, maybe it can b/c maybe everyone reacts … but in that instant, looking into the eyes of someone you helped create. That is real. Then there is "christening" or a photo or a dress or outfit or grandparents and all the other bullshit that is make believe.

But... if you'll let yourself have that instant...that moment...those few seconds. That feeling. That IS what LOVE is.

The simulation is designed to keep you from that feeling. Because if you felt that, you would do anything. If you felt that, you COULD do anything. And that would fuck up the simulation. So, you put on the tux and the dress and you get the apartment and the house and you buy the van you need for kids and you keep following the simulation.

This.

Is.

Real.

"I love the fuck out of you..." She said out loud.

I keep saying, alone, on walks … in my office.... at night "I love you so much...."

What I mean is: I LOVE you. As in: I've NEVER actually loved someone before. I loved in the simulation way.

This is different. And the only thing that comes close is that feeling... that instant - when you hold a child that's yours for the first time.

This IS love.

Fuck the simulation.

Safe. Home. Enough.

When I think of her, I think of three words. Safe. Home. Enough.

With her, I am safe.

With her, I am home.

With her, I am enough.


She is my home. She is safe. She is enough.

Those three things: That's all I've ever wanted.

To be safe. To be home. To be enough.

Whatcha Doin?

It was a simple, casual text.

"Whatcha doin?!"

Umm. well, you haven't responded or texted me in 2 days, so...

yeah.

I'm drowning in a puddle of my own tears because I don't know what the fuck is going on with you and you haven't messaged me in two days.... all AFTER the past week and all that was said between us.

When I saw your name flash on my screen, what I was doing was thinking that what needs to happen is I need to tie you up with the goddamn red silk tie you insisted I buy and use my fingers and mouth to make you cum so many times you can't feel your arms or legs and then fuck you long and hard... then hold you as we both fall asleep, then wake up and fuck you again...  so that the very next time you even *think* I might be texting you your clit tingles and your panties melt and MAYBE you'll at least fucking acknowledge that I'm here. 

That's what I'm doin?!

What do you think?

A chicken sandwich in 2016

I can still see the moment in 2016. The exact second I knew.

I can feel the pain, the anger, the redness on my face.

Inside, I made a decision. THAT. WAS. IT.

And, I can still taste the chicken sandwich of denial 30 minutes later.

The taste of peanut oil and white meat and buttered bread.

The laughter.

The pretending.

It didn't happen, it won't happen again.

It's better if I just let it go.

It's better to let go.

And, well, it was better. For a minute. A day. A week.

Until it wasn't better. Until it hurt worse. Until I lost. Lost it all. Lost even the one who gave me hope.

I ate a chicken sandwich in 2016 and it killed my future. Made me sick with regret. Destroyed opportunity.

The pain of that bitter meal stings even now, and will sting until the end.

I knew... EXACTLY what needed to happen. And did none of it.

I ate a sandwich. I smiled. I laughed.

And I died inside.

100% white meat death.

On the Roof

I once wrote that I'd climb the Eiffel Tower to be met by a thousand snakes if I knew at the end, you'd be there.

Well, in our first meeting of the second round of "us," you took me to the roof of your building. 5 stories high. A beautiful view of the city. I didn't even ask. Didn't protest. Didn't resist. Sure, I'm terrified of heights.

But, you were there. I would walk anywhere with you. No, it wasn't a towering monument filled with snakes, but in retrospect, it should have scared the hell out of me.

You give me comfort and peace in a way no one else has.

Will I walk the stairs and climb onto the roof and sit for an hour and talk with you while we see the city? YES!

And I will feel calm, confident, in control, at peace.

Because you are there. Because with you, I'm the best me.

With you, I do the things my heart wants... I live the life I've dreamed of living.

Just your presence... is enough.

We were on the roof... sharing our worlds.

I've never, ever been happier.

Don't Marry Your Best Friend

A very common piece of advice young people are given is that they should "marry their best friend."

Don't fucking do it.

The sentiment, the intention, is nice. I mean, of course you want to be able to get along with the person who you've agreed to spend ALL of your life with.

BUT.

Does that person also light your soul on fire?

Sure, your best friend is there when you need them most … and they've seen the ugly parts of you and are still around.

BUT.

Your spouse will be there EVERY FUCKING DAY.

FOREVER.

So, yes, sparks die out.

But.

Have you ever touched the sun?

Have you ever met someone that made it feel like you were touching the sun...and that when you did, you didn't burn up or get absorbed, you only became brighter?

THAT.

Does your best friend do that?

No?

The person who lights your soul on fire.

THAT.

That is who you should marry/partner/commit to.

Because one day, that best friend will piss you off or miss something or fuck something up.

And … well, sure, they were there for you all that time. But, you don't have some memory of a soul on fire. You can't look into their eyes and see a flame ignite. Because it was never there.

Choose the sun.

The sun is a flame... a heat... that sustains life.

That person that you'd fuck in the laundry room while your kids are watching another PBS show? YEAH. THAT IS LIFE.

That's the essence of life.

Your best friend is reliable, yes. They show up, yes. And maybe, just maybe, the sun for you is not always there...

But … that warmth, that heat, that passion... hell, even the memory of that passion...that's sustaining...it's life-giving.

Sure, you need a best friend.

But maybe not in your house...or as your permanent life partner.

Life may not be as predictable when you marry the Sun...but it will be warmer, happier, more emotional, more complete.

Keep your best friend.

Marry the fire.

You don't know this...

You don't know this... and you may never know.

But. Just before I met you, I almost died.

I was closer than I have ever been to ending my own life.

This was over a year ago, but it was only a few months before I met you.

I snapped out of that vision.

I was listening to a song I know well... a painful, powerful rendition.

And I saw all of it.

The gun in the drawer, the gun in my mouth, all of it.

I'm not there any more. Not even close.

For one, I sold the gun.

The darkness followed me … days that led into weeks that became months.

Then, you.

I met you.

And that one tiny message... "I want you to know I really appreciate you." That's ALL I needed.

The darkness went away.

I just needed one person to believe... to see the amazing inside me.

Just one.

YOU SAVED MY LIFE.

You don't know it and I don't know how to say it.

But, I'm writing it here.

Thank you.

First Love

I met my first love when I was 43.

Yes, I'd been with other women. Had met them, held them, made love to them... told them I loved them, heard them say it back to me.

But. No one. Not one single person moved me...touched my heart... like she did.

Not until I was 43 would I give myself fully to another person. Not until that day would I open my heart.

I hugged her when we met the first time...she embraced me in return.

The magic was just beginning.

I met my first love when I was 43.

In some ways, that is difficult to realize, hard to type.

But. That's what I happened.

I had given good parts of me, most of me, the love I knew how to give to others.

But to her, I gave it all.

To know I have that capacity...to know that CAN be done, it's a tremendous gift.

She's in my life again.

In a small but beautiful way. I'm rejoicing that she's there.

My heart still sings with each text from her.

I don't know what's next.

I know she taught me how to love...how to give.

I met my first love when I was 43.

I will never be the same.

Phone Call

One year ago today, I made a phone call.

I knew. I knew before I made the call what I wanted.

It had been almost exactly 20 years since I'd called a woman for the purpose of securing a date.

Sure, I'd seen people, dated, even. But... to pick up the phone and verbally request that you meet me at a specific time and place with clear romantic intentions? It's now happened exactly twice in my life.

Yes, I knew what I wanted. But there was no way to know what would happen next.

I always like to know the ending.

I take great care to plan and think and factor and figure... so I know all the possible options and can choose the best path forward.

The only thing I knew one year ago was that I had to see you.

That I could not go one more day without asking to see you. That as soon as you were available, I wanted to look into your eyes and hear your voice.

Here are my great fears: Heights. Snakes. The phone.

Sure, I call people when I absolutely have to and it can't be avoided. But, texting has enabled me to avoid LOTS of calls and to set up meetings and dates without having to endure the phone.

Still, I wanted to hear your voice... I wanted to ask you one thing and I wanted (badly) for you to say yes... and I knew that if you said yes to me over the phone, you'd be there.

So I called. And we talked. And I asked...and you said yes, that you had time the next day. We could have coffee.

That day... one year ago … began the longest period of complete happiness I've ever experienced.

Our coffee date was... amazing. And, the rest was incredible. And, sure, it ended. I know why. It wasn't harsh or cruel or mean... it was necessary, however painful.

I will forever remember that phone call, every single word of it.

I still cannot believe it happened...and I still cannot believe you said yes.

Everything after showed me a peace, a happiness, a pure acceptance that I did not know was possible.

I love you. More than I have ever loved before. More than I will likely ever love again.

And it all began with that one phone call one year ago.

Wedding Day

You wore a long, flowing white dress. Simple, clean, long... accentuating your height. Your hair pinned back at the sides with flowers. Your feet bare, and still taller than me.

You looked down as you walked, shy, quiet, heart beating fast.

I could not stop smiling.

The day was cool, the grass still moist from morning dew.

The view... the hills... the valley below.

The few gathered with us. A small circle of friends and very select family. No more than 20 all told.

THIS. This is the day I've waited for … every single day of my life was getting ready for this day.

My path... like an ancient river, snaking through a thick forest. Twists, turns, slow movements, fast currents over jagged rocks.

Your path was more direct... not without bumps, but … more certain.

I still... still can't believe I even made a mark in the book of your heart.

Here we are.

Our wedding day.

Our promise to each other.

Our beginning.

I let you down ...

Before I even knew you, I let you down.

I made choices. Lots of choices. But the main choice: I accepted "good enough me."

There is a person inside me … the man you saw I could be … but, I was too comfortable, too complacent to claim him.

I knew. At some points, the pain was too much, too strong. And I thought: I'll do THIS now. But, I put it off.

And... life was good enough.

Sure, there was that time on a work trip when I cried after getting off the plane because I knew what could have been, what could be … if I would just... but, well, I didn't.

The irony in this is that I shouldn't even have been where I was when I met you. Had no business there. Being in that place was part of "good enough me." The part that didn't deserve what we had, if only briefly. So, there I was. And, there you were.

But … here's the thing: Because I accepted "good enough" for so long, I wasn't ready. I was in no position to ask you what I did on that last night.

But I asked. And you didn't say no … not right away.

But, of course, you did. Anyone would … I'd tell 100% of my friends to walk away if someone asked what I did. And I LOVE you... so, walking away was the right thing... for you. And, well, for me.

Because you walked away, I was forced to deal with "good enough me."

Fuck good enough me.

I don't know... I don't know how to articulate how much I'd give to have dealt with this ANY time before the day we met.

I never knew there was a you.

I've met so many people in so many places and had so many fulfilling encounters, relationships, etc...

NOTHING comes close to this... to what we had... what we both saw we could have.

But … I let you down. Before I knew you.

I promise this: I'm better .. and I'll be 100% open with you going forward, just like I was then.

I would bet on my life that you will never find a man more committed, more devoted, more all-in with you than I am.

Here's what that means: I want you to be happy. Period.

That doesn't have to be with me... I had accepted good enough for so long … and you deserve better.

I fully accept that there's someone out there who will be committed to you, who will be living his best life, and who will embrace you.

Will he be as "all-in" as I am? I doubt it … but, you deserve that happiness of being wanted by a man who has all his things in order.

Had you said yes that night, I'm not sure I'd be here now … truly, you gave me the most beautiful gift -- the desire to get my shit together.

I will forever be here for you. In any way you need. Not desperate, not weird or creepy. Just here.

You gave me a gift greater than anything I've ever received.

And the only way I can repay you is to be 100% the man you saw inside. If you never want to be with me as more than friends, I understand. Just know that I know... and promise me you'll never accept "good enough" for yourself.

I want to go in ...

For so many years, I've wanted to go away. I wanted to leave the house because it hurt there. I wanted to not come home b/c of the screaming. I wanted to get out of this town because that's where it all started. I wanted to move on from college and get money. I wanted to leave this job because I couldn't stand the people. I wanted to walk away from this relationship because I couldn't deal with what was happening.

Always going away meant the problems kept stacking up... they didn't leave just because I did.

But, my life was good enough. Comfortable, pleasant. Sure, these things hung over me, but I could always walk away. Make a slight change... not deal with it.

Plus, I made decisions. Good ones, sure. But also, some that got me into situations... that I wanted to walk away from...

In fact, I should NOT have been doing what I was when I met you.

It was one more instance of me walking away...or, distracting myself from the reality of my situation.

Still, of all the decisions I've made.. the not so good ones, I do NOT in any way regret doing what I was when we met.

It seems impossible I would have met you otherwise. And, by chance, I met YOU. A truly amazing, kind, gentle soul who showed me the me I'd forgotten.

For the first time, I didn't want to go away.

I wanted to go in... all in. With you.

But, that meant dealing with a stack of shit I'd left to the side for years...

No matter, taking that pile on is easy when compared to the idea of not having you..

You're back now, in some ways.

And I've spent months dealing with things that once seemed overwhelming but now seem trivial.

I wish I hadn't always been going away... I wish I had stopped and dealt with things...but, that seemed to be a sure path toward disruption, discomfort. I'd had enough of that.

I've said before, but it bears repeating: I would trade anything for the opportunity to have met you AFTER I'd dealt with all of this... I wish we were meeting for the first time today.

But, that's not how it works.

Life is messy.

There's no explanation for why we met when we did.

I am beyond thrilled it happened, even if we can never be more than friends going forward.

My life is forever changed b/c of what you meant (and mean) to me.

I won't be walking away again...

I want to go in …

This is How I Know

I love you.

I know this like I've never known anything else in the world.

I saw a picture today.

A friend, nearly 60, posting her wedding pic.

Noting she'd married her best friend. Both of them smiling.

If I have to wait until I'm 60 to marry you, I will.

I want that moment with you -- I can already see it in my mind.

I might explode when you look at me as my wife. But... if so, I'll die happier than anyone has ever been.

You are back in my life now. After a long time … a seeming eternity … and I am soooo glad.

I won't push.

I won't ask for too much.

I want this.

I want to hear your voice and see your face and read your words on my phone. I cannot begin to tell you what they mean...what you mean to me. I feel … silly, stupid, idiotic, inept... but, that's LOVE. We went so far so fast last year.  And then... then I thought you'd be gone forever.

Now, here you are. Again.

And I wonder if this is even real... this can't be my life. I don't deserve this. Yes, that's my default. When something good happens, I think I don't deserve it.

But...well, you are something amazing... incredible... something I don't have words for...

Anyway.

You asked me how I know I love you... THIS is how I know:

NOTHING has hurt more than the time you weren't in my life.

Going from standing in your kitchen, to holding you against my car, to not seeing or hearing from you for months...

I cannot begin to describe that pain.

I've been in the ER because someone hurt me so badly... I've seen my money stolen... I've worked 12 hour shifts and watched my effort disappear... I've watched a close friend die...

I used to think it was all terrible... I used to dream of walks on the sidewalk near my house and burst into tears... I used to see the hallway and the green carpet and the monster in my room... and all I wanted to do was run away.

And then... then you.  And then you were gone.

And suddenly … ALL of those things. I'd do them 1000 times over if it meant I ended up with our brief time together.

Holding you was like embracing the sun... your light, your heat, your power... strong, intense...and yet I wasn't burned, instead, you lit the sun inside of me...the one I'd forgotten... dim as the moon on a cloudy night by now, only faint glimmers of past potential... yet you saw it.

I HELD THE SUN!

The sun chose me...

And so.

So... I did it.

I did the things... I took people on, I confronted, I worked... there is MUCH more to do. I want to be clear.

But I WILL be the sun you saw inside of me.

If all we ever have is what we have now... I'll shine so bright the world will not be able to ignore it...

YES... I dream of more... but I know we had our moment...

YOU made this happen... you gave me the fire I needed to be the man I can and will be... You made me want to climb the highest mountain to be the best... to be all of me.

I would LOVE to hold you one more time... to taste the sweet, soft kiss of your lips...

I know that may not be possible...

I know I love you...

This. This is that feeling...that thing... that... THIS IS LOVE... it's what I've wanted since forever and what I found in you and no one and nothing can take away what we shared...

Nothing hurts worse than not having you in my life.

This is how I know.

I Wanna Learn a Love Song

So, I've always loved Harry Chapin -- it's a thing I shared with my dad. He'd play a Harry Chapin tape in his car -- the one with the cassette player. And he knew all the lyrics and he'd sing terribly along and I'd laugh with him.

Lately, I've been thinking of this Harry Chapin song: I wanna learn a love song. In particular, these lyrics:

And all them pinup girls in that tinsel world
Never touched me like she can

Chapin was comparing the woman he was with (Sandy, his eventual wife) to the women he'd met during time he spent in California.

But here's the thing: Sandy was married to a lawyer and had three kids.

Harry was just there to teach guitar.

What happened next didn't make any sense. It wasn't logical.

Sandy was married. Harry was a young guy trying to make it in music with no money.

Sandy had kids...

Sandy was another man's wife.

Sandy didn't want to "learn a love song..." Sandy wanted to be in love.

I'm sure she had good feelings about her husband... I'm sure she'd told him she loved him. I'm sure she did love him.

They had three children together. By all accounts, there life was "on track."

But what Harry felt -- and what Sandy felt - was LOVE.

Ultimately, Sandy left her husband and married Harry.


The bottom line: The two of them felt love for each other -- true, intense, deep love. Harry made something happen inside Sandy that no one else had. She left a good life and a family to claim that feeling.

This … this song. This is how I felt about .. her.

Sure, the circumstances were different.

But the feeling...

I told her on the phone one night that I couldn't describe how I felt about her... I had no words.

I make money from writing... from telling stories... from using words to paint pictures. And no words could describe how my heart felt with her... none.

None of how we met or dated or came together made any sense. At all. If I told this story to 1000 people, none of them would believe it. If I told to 10 people who've known me for some time, none of them would believe it.

I thought there was maybe a 1% chance she'd say yes to a coffee date IF I called her. We'd tried to meet via text and it just wasn't happening... so, I reasoned, if she verbally agreed, maybe she'd meet me.

I HATE using the phone... I hate calling people, I hate phone calls generally, I can't end them without feeling awkward, etc... everything about a phone call drives me crazy.

But...there was a 1 in 100 chance that IF I called her, she'd agree to meet me... to sit across from me and have coffee and look into my eyes. That's only slightly better than the 0 in 100 chance she'd do it if I didn't call.

It didn't matter. That slight difference...that chance that there was a chance... that's all I needed.

She said yes.

Holy fuck.

She said yes.

She was going to meet me for coffee.

I texted her the next morning... the day of the date. She was up, she was ready, we were meeting. She texted me when she left her apartment. She was on the way...

She walked in... I hugged her, she hugged me...

 Holy fuck.

ALL the lights went on.

ALL of them.

We talked, we laughed, we hugged, I took her home... we agreed on a lunch date...

I was walking on air.

Lunch..

A trip together... 4 days...just us.

Magic.

I learned a love song.

I learned I'd never really been in love before.

I was 43.

I can talk about why or how I got to 43 without this...

But.

It doesn't matter.

There I was... in love.

In a situation that made ZERO sense.

There I was... in the back of a Lyft in a city I visited often... with her. Crying. Crying in front of another person. Crying in front of her.

Because I knew.. she knew... this was a fantasy.

And... well... we kept on... for a bit.

This is where the story turns...

DEAL WITH YOUR FUCKING SHIT.

Go back to Derry.

Do what you have to do.

One night, I stood in her kitchen... she already knew more about me than any single person in the world... but, well, I knew what I wanted. And, for the first time in my life, I was going to ask for it. Yeah, I was 43 and fuck you, yeah, I was 43 and there's a lot of reasons why I got to this point ...but God damn it...

Anyway, there I was … in her kitchen. In her apartment. In front of her. Looking into the eyes of a woman I LOVED. I LOVED.

She touched me like no else ever has... like I suspect no one will...

And I said it: I said -- I LOVE YOU.

I told her what I  needed to do... what was next.

And I told her I wanted her to come with me on the journey, even though I knew it would suck... and suck a lot.

It was a journey I'd avoided in 2005, 2012, and 2016 -- each time, the pain grew intense, but I found a "way out" and didn't do ALL I needed to do.

It was … good enough.

Plus, I figured, the odds of meeting someone so amazing I'd want to go through the pain of dealing with all of that... basically ZERO.

Good enough was... well, good enough.

DEAL WITH YOUR FUCKING SHIT.

I'm ok. I'll be ok.

But I will probably never, ever meet someone like her.

We're talking again... after many months of not.

And … well, it's nice.

But... that … that soul fire... it still burns in me. but she's keeping a safe distance. She probably always will.

I wanna learn a love song... I learned a love song. I got to love and be loved. It may never, ever happen again … though this very scenario seemed so unlikely even just one year ago.

NOTHING feels like this did... like I feel for her.

I will … still … give her all of me and take every bit of her.

But …

She may be waiting... looking for someone who doesn't have all this shit to deal with... someone who has taken Derry head-on and won.

And she deserves every bit of that.

I'm getting there... but I don't blame her skepticism.

I learned a love song... I was in love with someone who was in love with me.

Truly. Madly. Deeply.

That may never, ever happen...

again.

And the one lesson I take from that is: the pain of dealing with shit any time BEFORE I met her...

I would climb the highest mountain and meet 1000 snakes if I knew at the end, I'd see her face.

But life doesn't work like that... you can't go back and make different choices.

So.. confront your demons... deal with your shit.

Be ready for that surprise love song to get to you.

I saw Nirvana and I saw it slip away.. yes, I held it for a moment... and I'll cherish that forever... perhaps... maybe, it will come around again... she will come around again...

But the pain of not knowing... of walking away … of watching her leave...

I wanna learn a love song... and sing it with her until I die.

Not Like This

The whole time... the whole time we were together, I felt it was, well, bizarre.

It was strange the way we met... odd the place we met.

All of it... the trajectory of our coming together … highly unlikely.

But, there we were. Together. Having coffee and then lunch and then more and then a trip and then...

I said you were amazing...and you are. You said I was incredible.

You once asked me to describe how I felt about you...

And, well, I couldn't … I couldn't find the words.

I'd said the words "I love you" to others...but, those words seemed to fail to convey the complete possession of my heart... you had (and still have) ALL of me.

I can't help it and I can't stop it and I have never been happier in my life.

I used to think: This, this is good. Or, wow...

But... you.

I've never loved like this. Not with all of me. Not completely.

I've never accepted ALL of someone else... not completely.

And... well, I know our brief time had to end...

And... I'm thrilled you're back in my life.

If we never have again what we had in those brief moments, I'll at least have that time...those weeks and days and minutes .. to look back on and remember what it was like to be lost in love.

And when I see you now, I see love.

I respect you...

The basis of love is respect.

If all you want now is to work with me, to sit with me, to talk to me... I can do that.

For more than a week now, I've slept well... and I'm not crying every day.

I'm not crying at all.

Having you in my life... in any way … is true beauty.

You know where I stand... what I want: ALL of you.

But know this: No one has touched me like you do, like you can.

I am here. For you.

I want all of you and I'll give you all of me.

I've never loved like this... and just a moment in your presence is like a thousand perfect summer days.

If you never want more than just "this" just working and being and talking... I'm here.

But if you decide you want what we had in those moments we shared, I'm here.

Those days we had together...that feeling... it can be real every single day.

I've never loved.

Not like this.

Let me say this

When you texted me... just then. That night. You said, "How are you?!"

That's what you said.

Let me say this: The woman I love more than I've every loved anyone hasn't talked to me in nine months... how do you think I am?

Let me say this: I thought I'd been in love before, I really did. I thought I'd given all of me.

But: I hadn't.

There's no reason you would or should believe me. I'm sure other people have said, "I love you more than anything" to you before.

But.

Dammit.

Here's the fucking evidence.

I told you EVERYTHING.

All of it.

Remember that night? Of course you do, you remember everything! The first night we were really alone together. And I told you about Michelle? Remember? Who the fuck does that? NO ONE. No man would tell you that story on his first night alone with you unless...

Unless he was already in love with you.

Unless he wasn't afraid to win...

Unless he wanted more than anything for YOU to be the one who saw ALL of him.

I LOVE YOU.

Yes, I've said those three words before. And, I've meant them. At least, as I understood them.

But. I LOVE YOU.

You can have: My phone for an entire day to see who I'm texting and who texts me. My bank accounts. My email password. Everything.

For the first time in my life I want to hide NOTHING.

Do you know why?

Because I want ALL of you.

I've already seen a lot.

And I want it all.

If I'm going to ask for all of you (and I am), I will give you ALL of me. No questions, no hiding, no secrets.

Do you know how hard that is?

I am … well, for lack of a better word...sorry.

For so long I thought: I could deal with these issues...BUT...well, it might hurt. A lot.

And, well, my life is pretty fucking pleasant. Is it perfect? No! But, who has a perfect life? Look at the shithole where I came from and then look at this...and then... yeah, why fuck that shit up, right?

In 2005, 2012, and 2016, I had moments that were so intense I thought: Now is the time.

But then, the relative comfort set in … and...

I didn't.

Let me say this: I always thought that dealing with this would be terrible, would be ugly, would be unpleasant.

Do you know what's unpleasant? What's terrible?

Meeting you and becoming a part of you and then realizing that THIS is in the way. This "thing" that I've not addressed.

I'm addressing it now. After

It may well be too late for you...and that's fair. But, I'll be a better man in any case.

NOTHING has hurt like realizing that if I'd just done this sometime before August of 2018, I'd have been totally available for you.

NOTHING hurts that bad.

This hurts.

But also: I'm better and stronger now.

You may still be reluctant, skeptical. Or, maybe you've moved on to someone who has conquered his shit or has less shit to start with... ok.

Just know this: I NOW know what love IS.

I will do anything to be the man you saw inside me. ANYTHING. And I will take ALL of you. I know it is not all sunshine and light. I know. I'll give you ALL of me and I'll take ALL of you.

ALL.

I LOVE YOU.

The Sun

For a brief moment, I held the sun.

For a brief moment, the sun held me.

The sun touched me like I'd never been touched.

For so, so many years I'd been guided by the moon.

Just enough light. A light in the darkness.

Sometimes, the moon was big, bright, brilliant...it's light would sustain me for days.

Sometimes, the moon was gone, or barely there. But, it was just enough.

I kept going. Guided by what I thought was the most brilliant light. The light most likely to keep me safe, to guide me home.

Then.

Then one day.

One day, the sun.

The sun shone bright. So bright, at first I didn't even believe it.

This couldn't be real … it couldn't be true.

There's no light like this... no light I can see that's this bright.

Surely, no light this strong can shine on me.

But you did.

You became my sun.

Hot, intense, persistent, constant, brilliant.

And you were there day after day after day as if there were never any clouds.

And as I came to know you, I saw the clouds... the ones you'd never let show … you were always so bright, so brilliant for me.

You were my sun... the essence of my existence .. Your brightness kept me alive, kept me moving forward.

One night, I held you... I held the sun. She held me back, embraced me with a warmth I never knew was possible.

I gave everything to the sun... your light was so bright, you saw all of me.

All of me is still here... Waiting. Waiting for the sun again.

Waiting for what I never knew I needed.

YOU are my sun.

Hot to the touch, painful at times, brilliant, beautiful, essential...

Like all things alive, I need MY sun.

All

All I needed was a text from you.

That's all.

On Thursday night, I saw a shooting star and I wished... I wished you'd be in my life again.

I know there's probably no "us" -- no "forever" no waking up in your arms in the morning again.

I want that … As I've said, I want all of you... and, I've said: The offer is still on the table.

But. Early Saturday morning, while I was asleep, you reached out.

At first, I thought it was a mistake. But, it wasn't, it turns out. Because you reached out again. And we talked.

And … well, I've cried every single day of 2019 until Saturday. Because when I woke up, your name was in my messages. And... it made me smile. And then, we talked and then again, briefly on Sunday.

And it's Wednesday and I still haven't cried.

Here's the thing: You are ALL.

So many years ago, I faced a choice.

There was the one who made me feel safe... made me know that it was going to be ok, that there would be no surprises. We had fun, we laughed, she was a friend.

Then there was the one who made my heart... made it jump. The one who in just one meeting lit my soul on fire.

What to do?

My life had been so chaotic, so unpredictable until then.

Do I go with the soul on fire and risk security? Not knowing exactly what's next …

Or, do I choose the happy friend, the reliable partner, the one who had been there through some pretty crazy shit?

Then, I got a call. A job. An offer. In the same town where the safe choice was already working. Meanwhile, the soul fire choice was moving to a new town and possibly dating someone.

Plus, even if my soul was on fire *right then* that wouldn't last, right?

And when that fire went out, I'd be left wishing I had a friend... security. A reliable partner to build with...

So, I made a choice. A perfectly rational choice. And it was … well, fine. More than fine. Incredible. Until, well, it wasn't. And there was no distant memory of a soul on fire and there was no new fire.

And then...

You.

All.

You made me feel safe... you made me feel comfortable. You let me know it was ok.

AND you lit my soul on fire.

In a way only one other person ever had.

You were... you ARE all.

When the soul fire burns out (though I suspect it won't), we'll both have a friend. Or, so I reasoned.

Actually, I didn't reason at all.

I just remembered her. The last fire starter... and I thought: This may never happen again.

I don't know what's next. Maybe just this. Maybe a text or a call or a coffee every now and then.

I know I love you. And I will always love you.

I know the fire you started inside me is still burning.

I know you make me feel safe.

All I needed was a text from you. A few words.

I want more... I want ALL.

But... as so often was the case, you gave me just what I needed. What I didn't even realize I needed.

All.