clicking beer bottles

Last night, I was clicking beers with my lost-dear-one and for the first time felt most comfortable and unassuming around his strong masculine aura. I finally got what I wished for this overgrown relationship. Yes... I now have the guts to admit a relationship while it does not (and maybe shall never) constitute nor fulfill my pompous concepts of a "relationship." It could be my acceptance of life and its misadventures that have brought me to this place, because I am so tired of feeling bad right after, because for once I just want to enjoy myself and bask in this moment that can monopolize your attention, because for many years now my fascination have not wavered even if I have been dying to get rid of it. Recognizing my fascination over shared spaces and their tenuous proximity, ambivalent but decisive touch and caress, I abandon all that I thought made sense. Clicking beers, exchanging stories in between breaths and sighs along with meaningless and meaningfull stares and silences, indeed we have come a long way.

Still surprise catches my fascination over a brewing desire, a desire that far outgrows the temporal rationality of conventional attraction. I remember this feeling and cannot believe that fact that after so long, it remains activated by the sheer presence of our bodies together in a space. Eight years ago, this was how I learned about you, a being that defies sedentary notions of love but one who lives it the way most of us would like to but cannot afford to. Good converations, affectionate tactile sensation, passionate, violent but loving.

Dear lost-one, finally I got to touch your heart. And while its been long since we've both been naked, ibut t was last night that were most naked.