in response to:

Your question.

I have a small journal, half filled by him, and I am to fill the other half.

That’s how it went.

He is a relentless creative. He’s the closest I’ve come to experiencing otherworldliness; I feel blessed to know him. He’s in a deep, dark, transitional place in life where he’s not the most enthusiastic about being social, and once learning that I felt even more blessed.

There’s no one in my life who I am able to hold and just listen to, without wondering if our clothes are going to come off. I can do that with him. He has an enthusiasm for just being that turns every visit into a treat.

And then there’s his love for her. It’s beyond measure. He gets so excited when he talks about her. She’ll be sitting on their big, brown leather chair, falling asleep in this tattered “sleeping jacket” she wears, mouth agape, glasses still on, and I’ll think of her as possessing the most inhuman beauty because of how he sees her.

He always makes dinner for us. Salads mostly.

We’ll do some photography show and tell afterwards and the magnitude of his images combined with the thrill for his current and future projects turns him practically senseless.

There’s no need to wind his crank to keep him going; he can do it himself.

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