Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Burn.
I’ve known Mady for less than three months, and already he’s worming his way into my heart, especially in the past couple of weeks when futile seems to be the best adjective to describe my relationships with men in general.
I can feel his affection for me, his aura opening up when he’s near. It seems odd to have such a wildly creative and youthful male energy in my life again, and I’m really not sure he’s here to stay or why he’s come into my life at this point. But he’s made it clear that he wants to be near me, that he just wants to be with me.
And I’m touched by his efforts, though I’m not sure how I feel about him or where this relationship will lead. Or if I’ll ever talk to him again after today.
I appreciate the conversations we have, even if they are somewhat limited at times in subject matter and they’re not really intimate at all. He’s fun, inventive, and tender in his tone. I can talk for hours with him, but it’s still not enough to satisfy my thirst for a verbal connection. I wish we had more in common. I wish there were more things to talk about.
When it comes to boys, I miss deep conversation more than anything else, sex included. God, I love long conversations! Nothing beats talking heart to heart, face to face, eye to eye if not cheek to cheek.
Deep conversation. It’s my anti-drug.