I miss you. Talking with you, knowing what's going on in your life... and most certainly fucking you.

Be clear, I DO want it, want you, want your cock. I absolutely DO.

And because I do, it's tempting to rush it, push it, make it 'fit' when the timing is off. My instinct knows better.

Everything about us - our meeting, our friendship, our sex - was a naturally occurring phenomenon, we just... happened. Things aligned and... there we were.

I trust that. It'll happen when it's supposed to.

But I did say your name last night, and I'll likely say it again tonight.
Damn.