I think about things too much. I conjure different scenarios both good and bad. It happens mostly when I am trying to sleep, but it can hit anywhere at anytime.
Sometimes I think...
am I good enough?
am I smart enough?
do people like me?
Sometimes I allow myself to secretly answer,
“no,
i'm not good enough.
i’m not smart enough.
no-one likes me.”
I accept the reality. I accept the doom. I accept the horrible fate. I allow it to swallow me up.
Sometimes I feel the spark that re-ignites the fire and burns the questions away.
I think about sex a lot.
I think about love a lot.
And verse visa.
I always knew when a relationship was over. The kisses became teeth clonking, nose banging realities.
I think about my Beautiful Bride a lot.
I accept that she will carry me when I need to be carried.
I will support her in the way she needs.
I will hear her.
I think that’s the best thing a boy can ever do for a girl. HEAR her.
I love her.
I love the everlasting quality of our kisses. Our kisses are magic. Her skin is my skin, my skin is her skin and our skin and our boy and our family and our dreams and our reality and our LIFE together.
It’s good to be back home.
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