There comes a time to reflect on where we’ve been and where we are. For me, right here right now… this is the time.
The time that has passed in calendar months is short, I freely confess, although it actually feels like years. I’ve known this chronological illusion only once before. It’s an indication of how real this feels, how significant it is. To me. To us.
We talked, you and I, about how we interact, how we relate — how we are with, and to, each other. How anyone else’s perception of “us” from the outside could never fully comprehend everything we share. It seemed to me that, in a way, what we have resembles the two self-relating areas of Zaphod Beeblebrox’s brain, and I remarked on this to you. The analogy charmed you, and you implied that perhaps I was almost as much of an uber-Geek as you.
Perhaps.
I would take this concept even further. What we have together is is self-existent, self-reliant. If people wish to look, let them look. It doesn’t matter what prying eyes surround us, or what they see or perceive. We are together, both separate and apart.
We have the faith and trust to exist and co-exist. There are others who make up the shape in which we live, and no one encroaches upon anyone else’s space. This affects us both, but does not preclude anything or anyone else.
My public declamations of the way you make me feel, my own self-exposition in fact; my literary nudity right here in my publicly-private space — by revealing so much, keeps even more for us to enjoy. The hidden nakedness that remains concealed is ours to share.
And we both know that you do not share your toyz.
I have taken stock. I’m so lucky. Some might even say blessed.
But most of all, I’m happier than I have been in the longest time.
Elegant Smut 