index | archives | notes Sunday, Mar. 25, 2012 9:04 a.m. << [ Calm Before ] >> Lysander is sleeping in my bed, the bed where I've held him hostage from the world for weeks now. In a fit of laughter yesterday, I asked him why he doesn't like me. "Because I love you," he said, then punctuated it with a kiss. He dissipates my tempests right away; can see the storm coming before it even crests the horizon, can see immediately what the source is and how to assuage my insecurities. He sounded like such a terrible idea at first, because who would choose damaged goods? For once, though, his jagged edges aren't a hindrance, they're amazing--they line up so perfectly with mine. << | x | >> whatiscopyright.org