To All Of My Circles And Triangles

Sometimes, at the moment you precisely require it the most, words, images, memories, and adorations are sent to you.

Without even a moment of hesitation.

These are, truly, the moments that make life worth living.

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Atherton,

It’s been so long since I’ve told you “I love you”. I read your post today, tears in my eyes. You are such a beautiful boy. Still a boy, yes. To me.

You’re the boy I met soooo long ago now. Warm and sad and soft and gentle and delicate. When I think of you, I think of those things. I know. There’s more, there’s your strength and your assuredness, your pride and your conviction. There’s your ability to vamp with the best of them. -smiling- But. I feel like I’ve always been able to look at you and see the fragileness of you. The tiny breaks in the safe smile. I always wish there was more of myself, my life, I could share with you. There have been times, today for example, when I wish we were no more than a door or two away. So I could barge in and flop onto your sofa, weary hand over my face, press into the flesh of your stomach and just shut my eyes. Your hand, light and warm on my back. Just so I could listen to you tell me stories. Your stories. Like the one you told today.

I want to share it with everyone. I have often wanted everyone I know to know a piece of you. Maybe not all the pieces I know – and I’ve always wished for more – but enough to see how beautiful you are. So I can say, “See him, there? There’s nothing he could ever do in this world that would make me love him any less, and I’m always finding reasons to love him more.”

And that’s from all the way over here.

Remember that for me, beautiful boy.

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Here is to remembering.

The boys and women we are. The work we’ve done. And the work we’ve yet to do.

And to 35 no longer being scary.

Because of people like you.

Filed under: Writing , a-list, alucina, emotional landscapes, memories, needful reminders, television