A lover and a friend. In many ways. More ways than one:

He was gentle with his words and tone. Gentle in his touch. And always meaningful. He meant every kiss, every hug, every stroke. And then we’d lay up half naked and watch The Late Night Show, half asleep. He was funny. A big baby by night, but up the next morning ready for work like clockwork. A working man’s man. He’d kiss my forehead sometimes and say have a good day. And how could I not when I started the day with him? We set the scene on fire with the chemistry. Flames. Chemistry was crazy. We’d spend so much one on one time, just talking. About our day, about our desires and plans. About our feelings. We would visit the cutest spots, just to lock eyes and forget about the world around us. We explored the city together. We explored each other. Boy, did we explore. We drink many glasses of wine. And ended up in each other’s arms. Talking, laughing, being silly. Sitting up for hours. It was a beautiful connection. One of a kind. He was a guy with more love in his heart than he could manage. I totally understood, but rarely agreed. We were a lot a like...creative, social, independent, outgoing, loving and passionate but still kind of reserved. He wasn’t an open book, but he’d let me peek inside and read a few chapters before bed every night. Something about being the “middle-child”, it was a blessing and a curse, being both the golden and the rebel child of our families. Wild, but knew how to do the right thing, and always walked in love. We shared our views on different things. Very different views, but respectable. He would always try to convince himself that I was scared to let him love me, when reality was he was scared it wasn’t all what it seemed. It seemed way too good to be true. Reality was he was scared to let me love him. It’s one thing to know love, another thing to obtain it, another thing to accept it, but a whole other thing to reciprocate it. Nonetheless, he was quite a treat to my life. An experience that I would sign up for again and again. I think we served great purpose in each other’s lives. He has helped me to see things in a different light, including myself. He made me feel like one of the best on earth with his compliments. Like I shouldn’t take no stuff from anybody. But I took stuff from him. I would insult him out of petty anger sometimes, and he’d still say things like “well, I think you’re great” and “but I love you.” He had no reason to believe otherwise, I didn’t give him one. Though things didn’t transpire exactly how we wanted, we ran a good race. And I am especially thankful for the smiles he put on my face. Along with plenty facial expressions of disgust, and a few tears. The places we’ve seen, the memories we made. The late nights and early morning. Simple encounters like grocery shopping, and checking on job sights. Our relationship had many many layers to it. Which made it hard to let go. If I lose a lover, I lose a friend, a driver, an ear to listen, a fellow wino, a foodie friend, a therapist, someone to call, someone to kiss, someone to hug, good company, good male energy, a team mate, and partner...all at once. Because there are no between the lines, ever since we crossed them. Though I don’t regret crossing them; I could surely use my friend right now. I miss how thoughtless our actions were, but it flowed. So organically. Many moments nothing short of real genuine joy, peace, love and happiness. I’m happy to have ever known him, and gotten the opportunity to get so close...but I do wish we had spent more time. It was time well spent. I wish we had the opportunity to share more, watch each other and grow old together. But that’s all dead now. All on his account. And I’m really sorry for our lost. We lost a real one, a real love. Dead.