…we find don’t have the luxury of certainty. Well, hardly ever. You are a luxurious hardly ever.

It’s been exactly one month since I reached out to you. As discussed previously, I think I had a few motives, all of which were not immediately obvious to me. But what a month.

There was a thin layer of dust forming on my heart that you knocked away. Now it’s shining, shimmering, and splendid.

Speaking of shining, shimmering, and splendid, I have voice memos of you and me singing on your patio that night I came out and we went to dinner and blew up trees and made love for what I believe culminated into several hours…if we added it all up.

Anyway, I just have a few recordings of us singing. Or rather, laughing and trying to sing. We are really sweet together. It’s pretty touching. As you might imagine.

I cannot wait to see a text from you on my phone. I cannot wait to hear your voice. I want to hear you say my name over and over again. I also want to hear you call me baby and all iterations thereof.

When I see you again, I am going to insist that you hold me for at least five minutes. I need to just appreciate your chest against mine. I can feel it still. I love the firmness and the broadness and the muscles in your chest.

Omg. I just thought about your spiderweb of Pre-cum and started cackling. I have to get a hold of myself. I miss you, sweetz I miss you from head to toe.

And I’m coming to take my hotdog maker. And all my fuckin Tiffany lamps. Buckle up.