Intermission Prelude

Thank you for regarding me as your friend. Thank you for considering what I say and contemplating my words. I appreciate your opinion, and I hold it in high regard. If you're uncomfortable with me or something I'm doing don't hesitate to tell me what it is. The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable around me because of something I'm doing; I'd gladly change what I'm doing to accommodate you. However, I refuse to change who I am. I cannot be who you desire me to be, so I hope all that I am is sufficient. I love your quirks. I love the way you look when you're exasperated with me. The satirical expression, which distorts your eyes and snares your lip nourishes my spirit.

I'm elated in your presence. I delight in your attention, but I try not to get too caught up in the moment. I'm afraid of regret, so I avoid doubt as much as morally possible. You inspire me. If I could paint a portrait of how important you are to me and make other people understand the intricacy of my gratitude; I'd be more famous than Da Vinci, Michelangelo and Monet. They would see your laughter: the quiet chortle behind smiling lips, the humor in your eyes, and the subtle way your composure is enough to turn heads. They would understand how the way you curl your fingers around my hand can be electric. Lovelorn pretense would waste away. Loneliness wouldn't exist. They would feel wholly appreciated, endowed with warmth that has been written and jaded to all extents, but felt uniquely from one person to the next.

My perspective has been altered. I see things a little differently now. I wish I could deliberate exactly what it is I know or feel, but it's difficult for me to comprehend. It's surreal but adamant. It would be neat if you could understand, but I can't expect you to. Thank you. You're special. You're irreplaceable. I wouldn't be the same person if I didn't know you.

Music of the moment: Fast Car by Tracy Chapman