Quiet Boys.

Really what I gave you was merely, twenty seven moments with a boy I’ve spent the past, well.
Let’s count.
Five years with.
Five.
Now we’re legally allowed to drink. So we do all the time.
It’s not so scary anymore.
Once we almost died in a car crash though.
I did give him that drawing of himself.
Did you want to hear about our winter? I’ll tell you about winter.
I know there was a lot of snow in my face, in my eyelashes.
In Ivan’s braces. Yeah, he got braces, against my wishes. But, he wanted them.
He. Wanted them. I don’t control him. He can survive without me. He’s stronger than he will ever imagine.
Anyway, there was snow. And falling on ice.
And I definitely recall a time when there was coffee spilled on his pants and I laughed and laughed.
He didn’t think it was so funny.
That’s it.
You got twenty seven moments. And there, I gave you some of a twenty eighth.
We’re soul mates. I told you I didn’t want to say love and I never have, though it’s what I feel all the time.
Ivan is one of those things that confront the basic problems.
I like things that confront the basic problem. Some people desire things that other people don’t understand; all we search for is happiness, and joy, and yet, because it seems unorthodox or different, we are labeled insane, cast out, and crucified.
He is just that. He’s something I desire though not everyone may understand. We ran away a long time ago. From colleges and family, from the people we grew up with.
We’re very alive. He draws, and sells it sometimes.
We both have little jobs.
We both hate money.
We both have each other.
We met on a Tuesday. I think it was a Tuesday.
I adore Tuesdays.
I don’t really know what to tell you. I only know that sometimes good things do happen.
Good things do happen.