We drank wine last night while we burned discs upon discs on music that I've been coveting from his collection. I danced for a moment, in the middle of the kitchen. He walked by—more or less used to these outbursts of mine. He said he liked the smell of me: familiar, "a pull on the heart strings." I feel exactly the same way about him.
I told him he was my home-away-from-home and he said he was honored. I told him I was lucky, but truly, I am blessed.
