Some time in March 2014

Connecting on every occasion possible, permitted, allowed.

These moments strung together like seed beads, plentiful loose in a dish.

Precision to string, precious but few when the end of the line is reached.

Connecting in ways that feel wonderful but do not matter.

You can love how someone makes you feel without ever really wanting who they are.

Their words, their thoughts, their life.

So I don’t lie. I tell you some truths. I wait for you to care that you aren’t getting all of me.

I’ll show you only what you want and none of what I need.

This connection means I concede.

If he was really perfect

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