Love doesn’t hold on, Don’t lie to yourself, Damn, I don’t want to repeat this shit.
So I asked my best friend to help me understand the other person; I’ve trusted his good judgment, his perspective unlike mine – for years. And, for years he’s listened to my agony and ecstasy, desire for truth and redemption and believe you me ‘I can’t make this stuff up’.
We’ve woven our lives together through the exchange of escapades, mind f***ks, free associations and ridiculous
scenarios. We’re also careful not to bruise one another when we think we know what to say to help. There is absolute respect between us and his suffering is mine, maybe mine also his.
He bought himself a day old box of heart shaped chocolates; I bought myself a dozen beautiful roses. We know how to take care of ourselves through the potential storms, the accepted disappointments, the tsunamis.
We make the connection, we trust the connection, we check in and ask the hard questions.
We never have to ask ‘Do you love me’.