half finished emails bring to mind

thank you, for knowing me.

that is a gift, and it makes me feel less alone, friend.

i like that you laugh at my jokes,

or think im funny.

i like that you know me,

peculiar parts of me,

and delight in them.

i like that what we say is funny

just because it's you, it's me saying them.

and you and me, one becomes significant

because the other exists.

i like the feeling that my heart

might just rest its weary self in front of you, in order

to be refreshed.

i like the thought of long conversations with night

falling outside on the pretty blankets inside.

darkness wrapping around us like comforting arms

as though beckoning us in,

to the land where secrets are possible, permissible

and the words usually shut inside of us are

free to roam, linger, in this strange dark wonderful land.

(they want to hold hands)

i like such nighttimes. it is a time for cookies, a pause in time to enjoy the goodness of

being alive, being able to talk and

speak. - stolen time,

my favorite.

i like that i can come to you

and its a small reflection of myself in the world

a small pool of me that i can trust and hold on to,

enough to discover the rest that makes you different.

i like that i can understand more,

without being destroyed.

without being undone.

i am still whole

because of you.

sometimes i go into the world

and go

into blank walls

they are called strangers.

but they are more like walls.

they bump me around unceremoniously

and unkindly,

without feeling

and i miss you then friend.

i look for you.

i really miss you-