That's what I want

I'm supposed to be packing preparatory to the move. But I've found myself reading a story instead. I thought I'd read it before, but I hadn't. A story of one day in the life of a man, a much younger man than me, who meets and falls in love with a pubescent boy. And the boy falls in love with him. There is sex in the story, but the main point is the love. That, ultimately, is what I really, really want. Not the sex, but the love. The sex, the mechanistic, hormone-driven part of it, can easily be dealt with alone. Love takes (at least) two. And love can, even when desire has waned, or disappeared altogether, last a lifetime. That's what happened in the story. Sex stopped, love endured. Nothing could be better than that for me, that enduring love. A hopeless dream, of course. But still a dream that left me with tears in my eyes. Happy tears. Ironic that it should've been today, of all days, that I read the story, and mused about its implications. The second anniversary of that phone call.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B