I will write this in ten years from the date of its publication (14 October 2023). I’ve post-dated it because I wish to protect it. None can read this but those with a direct link, and right now, that’s only one. And, this is not what I had originally intended to write, but the events of this week have reminded me how little control we have, and how quickly this world can shift on its axis. Because my heart has shattered every second this past week. I’m living a kind of trauma never before experienced. Extreme stress, I’ve been told by several. I have electric shocks throughout my body. Today, they increased. I’ve not ran since Wednesday because I’ve woken up daily, short of breath. Several times today, I had to stop and find my breath lost somewhere without my knowing. My birthday is on Monday. I share it with my uncle in G@za. I don’t know if he’ll be alive.

Ranunculus. She is my favourite flower, though preferably in dusty roses and peaches. Against a galvanized or textured steel vase, there are few things more beautiful. The demand made by my body is for softness and so I have surrounded myself with bulbs and slower music. I’ve not turned a light on for two days. This piece is my heart forcing itself to look at a softer corner of my world. I’m hopeful that to do so might drive some kind of sustained breath into my lungs. At least tonight.

They ordered for me.

For what feels like always and no time at all, I’ve asked their opinion on menu items every single time. Consistently, I followed their every recommendation. Their instinct – to order for me – was absolutely not only spot on, but a natural extension of my exhaustion and inability to make one more decision.

I have trusted them, implicitly, since we met.

They ask me why. Why do I trust them so? I wouldn’t answer the first time, but did choose to answer the second time, because I am finding myself wanting their fingerprints on even the smallest and most innocuous parts of my world.

They are equal parts gentleness and steel. A lot of edge; so much, in fact. All of it is missed by almost every single other around us. Shy, too. They are so so shy, at first. And, they are so so so so very interesting. I wish to point at everything in the world and ask their opinion. I want to know every detail, look at every corner. And, in equal measure, I wish to floodlight my own life, because there is nothing I wish to hide from this friendship.

Their intelligence is formidable, and it is clear that they are able to attain anything to which they set their mind. Fierce determination is a thing they have in spades, but others miss this; that they do, works in my friend’s favour.

They are imperfect, like all of us. Maybe a little lazy when disinterested. Perhaps cutting when not caring enough to first stop, and breathe before responding. But I imagine it takes a lot to land there.

Until ready to disclose emotion or let you in, they deflect with humour. My opposite, as I use humour to soften your landing into honesty unusual in this culture still.

They are one of the funniest individuals I’ve ever met, and they have become a quiet (very rowdy) corner in my life that I didn’t know I needed so much. More important than any of this, however, is that they are driven by an extremely high level of emotional intelligence.

From the day I met them, I was immediately at ease. They are a complete goof, but come with an interesting stillness when left alone. They are capable of laser-focus, from which you need to pull them away every now and again to ruffle their brain, force a deep breath before they might go underwater again. I can tell when they’re too focused; their sentences are shorter. It’s when I play more.

They knew how to handle me immediately. I was let loose inside of the sandbox, as they stood back and simply pointed to where I needed to stand, in order to properly discover and learn. They continue to very gently move sharp objects from my way, still what I need to keep right, right what I’ve accidentally knocked over, and with just a few words, pull me back when I need to temper.

I’ve not felt an urge to push back at any of this. Not even once. It’s a first, and it took me a while to understand this BONKERS new state in which I find myself – they are able to do this with me because they are stronger than I am, and it’s this strength which has allowed me to do what I have always wanted to do, but had not yet found the right circumstance in which to do it – cede control, willingly. Without question, I trust that they’ll do what needs to be done. The result has been a kind of peace when I know they’re involved, because I’m not taking on roles I don’t wish to take on.

It’s respect, isn’t it? Their strength engenders my respect, and therefor trust.

Even when they make a mistake, I trust that they have done so for the right reasons. Because we are all human, and so fallible. We’ve all made bad choices. Why shouldn’t they be allowed to also do so? This is how I see perfection, by the way – doing the right thing, but sometimes also doing the wrong thing for the right reasons / impulse. To be perfect is not to be infallible; but rather it is to see all of our own imperfections and speak to them as honestly as possible. Really, it is to strive in the direction of perfection while being humble enough to know that we will never attain it.

For all that we have shared with one another, for all of the stories and the truths we’ve disclosed, there are a lifetime left to fall into. For now, we sometimes share half-truths and test waters gently until we are ready to share more; the growing safety of our shared space will guide our conversations. There is a very organic movement to how we are handling this friendship and I cannot tell you where it will go. Today, I know only three things. One, that I am grateful for each moment I have with this person who is the very embodiment of healthy masculine. Two, that the feminine part of me is resting and at peace when I think of/am around them, because they are a blessing. And three, I hope they are as loved and as at peace and as appreciated as they deserve to be. Even if it is not me responsible for it, I hope only that their heart is full of bliss, always.

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