Love is the drug

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My small-shouldered fellah is back home with me. Been a rough five weeks with him away.

With Charles away and myself deeply worried about our life together continuing I felt victim of anomie. Why go to work, why even get out of the chair. Ive never been Mr. Dynamic but walking a half block for a pack of cigarettes seemed an act of will. (Not that I was willing chance going into the damnation of nicotine withdrawal.)

Inadvertently I caught a glimpse of an email to one of the most estimable people Ive ever known. That hes living by himself at his age (about mine) sometimes makes him feel that hes somehow flawed. My friend is attractive, smart, witty, compassionate you get the drift: in all the qualities you can think of he would make a good life companion for any compatible woman.

My friend has always seemed to walk serenely outside the romantic compulsions that shapes, warps, sometimes tears the lives of so many of us. You never know who may really be yearning for romantic love.

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Pansexual Sodomite
Love and Lust
Love is the drug
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