glad

          I feel a little guilty; two of my friends (who are in love) have been enduring a long separation from one another, and have yet another month to go before they'll be together again. I shouldn't complain about the one pifling week I spent apart from my own boy. But, man oh man, it was killing me.
          It's unimaginably good to have him back - the tangible presence of him, feeling his voice resonate beneath his ribs, the shape of his collarbone under my cheek, the warm reassurance of his hands.

          I'm having trouble writing lately. Like all good little melodramatic artists, I write best when feeling angsty. Oh, well. I guess I'll just have to write something sunshiney and oozing with sap.